The Enchantment of His Smile
by ReluctantOptimist
Summary: Paul, one of the schools star football players and a heterosexual, entire prospective of life changes as he sees the most beauty creature to have ever walked the face of the Earth—just his smile was enough, no other words needed to be said. Seth/Paul
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: I know this is a very rare pairing, but that's exactly why I'm writing it. I never read a Seth/Paul pairing before, and I like being different. This is my very first Twilight story where they will all be humans; my others are a bit more based upon the storyline, although none are really canon, but whatever! Anyways, **

**Summary: Whoever Paul thought he was, changed instantly, for when the boy smiled did his heart soar to the sun; an unexplainable desire, and an unexplainable conflict, but all love grows from the unexplained, from the incomprehensible. The embrace of his heart so tight it suffocated him in all the right ways. His lover, his world- Seth Meraz was his soul-guided purpose for existing. He was convinced of it.**

**Warnings: I'm not going to tell you. Let it be a surprise. Hehe! ^_^**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing Twilight related, only this story and the others! ;)**

*******Ah yes, and the entire story will be in Seth's point of view, despite the evocations of the summary. YES! Every single chapter will be in Seth's POV, no one else's. If I wanted to talk about someone else I would've put it in third person, seeing as if I won't, then it is entirely Seth's story. **

**But Read, relax, and enjoy. (RRE) I hope I didn't come off as too hostile just then, haha! But please do, SRE (sit back, relax, and enjoy)! ;D **

**And I'd like to extend a HUGE THANK YOU! to my awesome beta. ^_^ You're awesome...and you know this. ;D Thank you so very much!**

* * *

**Prologue**

_**- May 12**__**th**__**, 2020. Spring.**_

_**11:32am**_

The clock standing on the nightstand read: 11:32 am. The midday sun was splendidly flourishing the contents of our room, everything glowing warmly under the golden banners of sunlight that streamed in through the window. I turned in my computer chair and felt my lips tug up into a smile as the soft breeze caressed my warmed cheeks.

I again swiveled in my chair, spinning a full 360 before stopping on the balls of my toes, my smile broadening as I relished in the moment. Everything was perfect. So perfect, and sometimes, I wondered how that was ― not that life was ever_really_ hard for me, albeit it could be torturous at times, but nothing that I couldn't I knew for a fact that life had never been _this_ perfect before. I had a huge house, a decent car, and no kids (thank _God_). And I had a husband that was, for lack of better phrasing, just about my entire universe.

I kicked my bare feet against the smooth mahogany floorboard, twisting the chair so that I faced the bed, and inevitably, involuntarily, my faint smile morphed into a mischeivous grin. The bed was an utter _disaster_- the sheets and pillows were compiled haphazardly atop it; half of the comforter was drawn back, spilling messily onto the floor; the bottom sheet was peeled away, revealing the naked mattress. I couldn't stop the chuckle that bubbled past my lips, knowing exactly why it looked like such a compacted heap of a mess. _'Oops.'_

Paul was never a sound sleeper. He tended to be quite wild between the sheets ― in more ways than one. Again, I couldn't help but giggle at the thought. On very numerous occasions, he'd wake me up with either his ridiculous snoring, or his uncontrollable thrashing. But I never minded ― or so I told myself. Truth be told, it did get annoying, but Paul was Paul, and to have him I had to accept_ all_ of him.

God knows I had to learn that the hard way.

I suddenly felt my eyelids become heavier, my eyes downcast at the unwelcome memory. But quickly, before it could pull me down, I sighed a demure sigh, vanquishing all qualms. What was done was done. I'd looked past it. There was no point in dwelling on the past. Paul had made his mistakes, yes, but I couldn't hold him to them after so long. It wouldn't be fair.

All of this thinking about Paul finally brought my attention back to the laptop sitting in front of me, casting scarcely visible blue light from the screen over my face as I turned back to it. I had to write, which was a mystery to me, considering the fact that I was a _gymnast_, not a writer. Damned English classes!

Paul was always fond of my writing, and pressured me time and time again to write an autobiography, whether it be only for his eyes to read or the world's. For the past three years he'd been pestering me about it, but _yesterday_. God, yesterday, he'd been so _determined_, so damn persuasive, that I'd finally gave in and promised I'd begin writing it. I'd run out of my lousy excuses.

I shrugged.

His persistence was quaint, though. In those three years, he had never been more eager for me to ― at the very least ― start writing it, than he'd been yesterday. And once I started writing, I could never stop. He knew that, which led me to believe that he was up to something as he tried to keep me busy, but hell if I knew what it was. Knowing him, it'd probably be something stupid.

I scoffed lightly and shook my head, smiling at the vivid image of him racing to the park early in the morning and pushing kids to the ground so he could be the first one to slide down the slide, and then arguing or literally fighting with the kid's parents afterwards. I laughed out loud. Paul always had a temper (and was always quick to show it), but I was the exception of that rage.

I felt my chest tighten. Another memory fulfilling its purpose of tormenting me, another memory I'd rather not own. I could feel the frown settle upon my face, my vision blurring slightly when my eyes fell again, lashes fluttering in front of me. I wasn't _always_ the exception of that rage, I remembered. I swallowed a thick lump in my throat.

Quickly, automatically, I grabbed my thighs with both my hands and squeezed them gently before rubbing them soothingly back and forth, seemingly rubbing away my troubled feelings. It was a habit. It always seemed to ― at the most ― scarcely solace my qualms, but it was enough for me to recollect myself.

That was another memory in the past, nothing to dwell on, and my eyes lit up again with determination, staring profusely at the screen of my laptop beneath furrowed brows. '_A damn autobiography_.' I thought bitterly. '_What am I going to do with this_?'

"Ah! _Shit_!" I turned swiftly, slightly alarmed by the clamor resounding throughout the house, the yells bouncing off shiny, new walls. It was Paul, and I could always tell by the exasperation of that specific obscenity whenever he used it ― every time. "That's fuckin' _hot_!"

Silently, I wondered what it was he was doing. '_Is he playing with the oven again_?' I shook my head, smiling as I reminisced on his prior failure(s) toiling with the oven. '_Jackass_.' I snickered.

Paul had to be solemnly contriving something in that head of his; I could practically _feel_ it. All the clues were there: He'd: a.) crawled out of bed before I had (which is _very_ seldom); b.) told me I was not, under any circumstances, to come downstairs; and c.) asked me if I were stupid.

Now, I was convinced by the third clue that he was concocting some evil scheme. I was the smart one in this relationship (and _he_ didn't fail to tell _everyone_ just how smart I was), and then he had the audacity to ask me if I was stupid.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" Paul yelled malice. I, again, snickered. '_Ha! That's what you get_._ Call me stupid, huh? Revenge! Revenge, I say!_' Then I heard a metallic ringing reverberate as if he'd kicked something in his enragement.

"Jack… _ass_," I said aloud to myself and rolled my eyes.

I sighed again, figuring I had procrastinated enough for the morning. I twisted in my chair and pulled myself up to the desk by the edge of the smooth wooden corner. Tentatively, I grazed the pad of my fingers over the keys of the contraption. I had no idea how to begin, _where_ to begin, but I hoped that once I commenced, I would gather a tone and take off from there as I'd always been able to do.

…

… …

… … …

I let out another frustrated huff. Dammit. It was difficult writing an autobiography when all I could think about was him. I smiled to myself, remembering how much of an ass he was to me in high school ― well, not so much as it was him as it was his dumb jockey friends.

Huh. Now that I thought about, I didn't know why Paul had changed. I really didn't. I deliberated on the thought for a while before finally typing the question at the head of the page.

"Why did you change?" I recited aloud as my fingers ran over the correct keys. I stared at the screen, rereading the question several times before slouching back into my chair, contemplating over the inquiry.

'_What happened to make him change_?' I asked myself, surprised that I'd never asked him in the _ten years_ we'd been together. After a moment of deliberation, I sat up straight, and glared at the blank page of my document, determination swelling in my gut.

"Well, I figure the only way to find out is to start at the beginning." I erased the inquiry from the head of the page and opted to use it as the first line, tapping the centre button to move it to the middle of the page. '_I guess I'll start off talking about me_.'

"I go by Seth Meraz," I typed, "and this story revolves around the trials of tribulations I've faced through my high school years being an openly gay male teenager." I paused, rereading the line. It was fine. "This is my story. This is the story that jump-started the beginning of my now perfect life, with my loving, dedicated, and patient ―"

"_Ahh_!" Paul shouted, enraged. "I will fucking _kill_ you!"

Okay, so perhaps _patient_ wasn't the word. ERASE.

"…temperamental," I corrected, "husband, Paul Meraz. It all began ten years ago, in my sophomore year, and in his senior year. This is a sort of love story between a gymnast and one of the school's star football players. I was the gymnast, obviously. But at the time, said gymnast, was better known as Seth Clearwater, brother to Leah Clearwater (now Leah Black), and son of Harry and Sue Clearwater. Ten years ago ―"

I stopped, smiling, wondering if I should use an endearing obscenity to make my statement more dynamic, or if I should just keep it clean. I decided to keep things civil for now, and continued on with, " ― my life was… confusing (to say the least), but only when Paul jumped head-first into it, shaking it up." I paused again, striving to repress unwanted memories.

"It all started on November 16th ― dreary autumn weather at Angelus Community High School of Performing Arts (ACHSA). Little did I know, returning to school that semester would trigger the release of a hurricane of havoc, an unpredictable love caught in the eye of the storm…"

* * *

**^_^ Prologue completed! This is my first EVER story written in first person. I'm a little apprehensive about the outcome. But…whatever.**

**Anyhow, enough with worries; even though this is my first endeavor at writing a first person story, I can guarantee that this story will not disappoint. I'll get the hang of it, and once I do, you'll be in for a handful! ;)**

**Again, I just want to sincerely thank the awesome-ist beta EVER! He's freakin' sweeeet! And I know with his awestastic (not a real word) editing abilities, this story will surely not disappoint and will be freakin' wrapped in awesomeness! Because we are awesome! Ahaha! ^_^**

**Well tell me what you think?**


	2. Cruel Beginnings

**OMG! I absolutely LOOOVEE! you Rossie babez! You're the bestest! ^_^**

* * *

**Cruel Beginnings**

**Why did you change?**

— _**November 16**__**th**__**. Autumn.**_

_**7:45a.m.**_

The air was chilled and the trees were stripping bare, their leaves fluttering a myriad of somber fall colors. The sun was partial, allowing few discriminated strips of splendored yellow to stream weakly from between the many clouds. The sun's silhouette shone around the dark, grey lumps of cloud in the decidedly murky sky.

I stared out the transparent window on the passenger side as Leah — my sister — manned the wheel of her rusty, busted-up red Celebrity Buick. Why she had saved up so long for this piece of junk, I'd never know, but it definitely beat taking the bus.

We'd lived in Seattle for the past two years with our parents after moving from our previous home in La Push, Washington. We'd lived on the reservation with all the other natives, and I knew that it was probably still customary for us to live _on_ the reservation because we were natives, but my dad — Harry Clearwater — figured that once a place became too much to withstand, it was time to leave. He and my mom, Sue, decided that we'd move to Seattle during the summer.

At the time, I had just graduated junior high, and the whole moving thing was more than a little scary, considering that I would have to meet new friends, live in a new neighborhood, go to a new school. It was like being reborn all over again. Everything was so... _new_.

It was maybe two months into the enjoyment of my summer when my parents, sitting at the dinner table, randomly told Leah and me why we'd moved from La Push. They simply and quite literally stated: the weather; and that was it. That was all they needed to say and we understood exactly what they meant.

My family and I weren't the type of folks that enjoyed cold, muddy, damp weather, and so the move wasn't all bad, because La Push was exactly that. Cold. Muddy. _Damp_. We were more of a waking-up-to-the-sun-in-your-face-and-beaming-through-the-window-every-morning type of family, which is why Seattle couldn't have been a better choice.

And moving to Seattle had more than just the pro of experiencing better weather. Leah was just as ecstatic as I was. She loved the reservation, but hated who lived there. More specifically, her ex-boyfriend. Sam Uley.

He'd _played_ her. He'dcheated on her with our cousin, Emily. Leah didn't so much as hate Emily as dislike her greatly, but she hated Sam. And they were both to blame, she had told me one night.

Leah and I were really close, much like a brother and sister should be. She was my best friend and my shoulder to cry on, and I was hers, which is exactly what she needed when she found out about Sam and Emily. It went on for hours. I had never known someone to cry so much in my life, but then again, she and Sam had been together since she had been twelve and he fifteen. Our parents didn't approve of the age difference, of course, and objected frequently. But Leah was going to do what Leah wanted to do. She stuck it out, bore their disapproval for the sake of their relationship. And then, all of a sudden three years later, he'd cheated, with Emily, our cousin, her best friend.

It had been so fucked up.

That had made the situation worse, no doubt about it- the fact that her and Emily were cousins, but as close as sisters, and that she lived about three houses down from us. Their relationship was almost as strong as ours, but no one's could really compare. Although I talk as if Leah was the only one with boyfriend problems, she wasn't, and she was there with her shoulder for me whenever I needed to just let it out.

My ex-boyfriend, Collin, who was twelve at the time when I was fourteen—another age difference my parent's didn't approve of— had cheated on me with his next door neighbor, Brady. The relationship only lasted for about six months, but nonetheless, it hurt. It was the first time, and it hurt. The trust was betrayed and it hurt, and I cried about it. A lot. I'm a fragile person.

Eventually, Leah and I got over our issues — her, not completely; she could _really_ hold a grudge — and concluded that we had each other and were both better off without them. Then, when we heard about the move we'd be making from dad, we figured that it was more than enough to get our minds off our heartbreaks, and welcomed it with open arms, minds, and hearts — although I was kind of scared about the whole starting over thing. But it wasn't that bad once we got there.

Upon arriving in Seattle, we had to decide which school, out of the few to choose from, we would be attending come august; Seattle High, Seattle's Culinary Arts University High School, and Angelus Community High School of Performing Arts were the available options.

Mind you, I was an incoming freshman when I opted to attend Angelus Community High School of Performing Arts, and with that combined with being an openly gay male teenager, it wasn't the best year of my life.

I was teased, bullied, and called derogatory names because of it. I wasn't flamboyant to the point where I'd sprinkle glitter in my hair, nor did I polish my fingernails and toenails, nor did I wear shirts three sizes too small that exposed by pierced bellybutton (yeah, got that done over the summer). I didn't wear weave or promote the new Prada or Gucci handbag or strut around in heels. I was just an average gay boy that was open about his sexuality. But moving to the big city where not many people know you, opposed to the reservation where I knew everyone, being gay wasn't as widely accepted as I'd hoped; Jared and Quil — football jockeys at ACHSA — made sure that I understood that every chance they could get during my freshman year. They were juniors then and seniors now as I returned to ACHSA for my sophomore year.

The school wasn't exactly far, but with a bus pass and a map for the first year, Leah and I made it there on time everyday.

Leah attended because she was interested in dance. She was a phenomenal dancer, which wasn't a surprise to anyone. Her lanky, toned figure was fit for a dancer. I attended because I was interested in gymnastics. My junior high school had had a gymnastics team, but it was inferior to ACHSA's. They were practically known everywhere, and you even had to _audition_ to get a spot. It was the weirdest thing, but _damn_ it was hard. I was so excited when I'd been chosen, and been given the uniform. It hangs in my locker.

When I was a freshman, Leah was a junior, and we took the bus until her senior year (and my sophomore year) when she _finally_ got this piece of crap car she's been saving up for. She'd had a bad habit of calling _it_ a '_her_', and an even worse habit calling it her _baby_. But like I said, I wasn't complaining, not too much at least. It certainly beat taking the bus, and walking for sure.

My freshman year ended, with Leah frequently yelling and screaming at the jocks for ridiculing and taunting me, occasionally getting into a tussle, until Jake — her totally committed boyfriend since we made the move, meeting on the very first day —, or I managed to wrestle her away. She'd even hit Quil in the eye once. It turned bluish-black almost immediately, and Jake had had to intervene when Quil (predictably) lost his temper and _really_ tried to hit her. That day didn't go very well to say the least.

But the year ended, and after many of my sister's daily reports about what would transpire between me and the jocks, Mom and Dad offered to transfer me to one of the other nearby schools. We'd had arrangements to move out of state at the end of my sophomore year, so it was either I stuck it out, or got out of there. Leah voted, along with my parents, that I should transfer out of ACHSA and go somewhere more suitable.

I stayed.

I appreciated their concern. Really, I did. And I'd thought out my options for considerable lengths of time. But I'd made a couple of good friends at ACHSA. I knew the teachers and counselors well. And me and my gymnastics coach — Ms. Mayberry; May for short — were pretty tight. I didn't want to leave all that behind, and I refused to give those bastards the satisfaction of knowing that they were the reason I left, and so I pumped up my chest and decided to stick it out until the end of the year when we would move again.

So, here it was — November 16th, the first half ofmy sophomore year. Leah and I were just pulling up into the parking lot; students bustled about with apparently urgent business, and others lingered longingly in the streets with their friends, even as the first bell rang to signal that we had ten minutes to get to the first class. I grabbed my bag from the backseat and slung it over my shoulder before hopping out the car and slamming the car door shut.

"Hey, _hey_, you be careful with her," Leah warned, frowning. I turned to her, trying to see what I'd done to her 'baby' this time — the piece of junk. She got out the car and caressed the roof of peeled paint and rusty metal, debris covering her palm.

"She's delicate," she finally stated, and patted the roof affectionately, causing rust dust to flurry agitatedly in the air. I rolled my eyes and left her without a word, ambling quickly into the building.

I was sort of in a rush to get to class for two reasons. Reason One: I hated the weather outside. Fall weather was so depressing. I didn't even want to _imagine_ how it would look outside during winter. That was one of the drawbacks of our move to Seattle — the four seasons. At least living on the reservation, the weather was at a consistent temperature with the same forecast everyday: cold as hell all year round with no hope of sun. _The sun doesn't exist anymore, but do expect some guaranteed rain showers._

It was fucking ridiculous.

Reason Two: the jocks. The assholes were never at school as early as Leah and I came, but considering the fact that football season was starting up again this year, I was sure they'd try to be a few minutes early in order to try and get a spot, which was completely absurd, and they knew it was. They were practically _guaranteed_ to be on the team either way it went. Their coach, Mr. Sanford, was biased. If you weren't tall and bulky, then in his eyes, you weren't a real football player. And they were all just that — muscle bound giants.

Fortunately enough for me, I wasn't into football. I wasn't tall in the least. I stood at an even 5"5, and I wasn't bulky. Gymnastics kept me in shape, lean and muscled, but in no way bulky like half of the players on the football team. They were freakin' _behemoths_ in comparison to me.

I headed to my locker, cranked the dial to the correct numbers after a small deliberation. Then I pulled it open, shoved my stuff in, glanced at myself in the mirror. Looked pretty normal. I sighed as I took out the necessary books for first period, and slammed the door shut with a scowl.

"Seth _damn_, you okay?" Leah asked. I turned to face her, noting her twisting the dial to her own locker that was, coincidentally, two lockers down from mine. "You keep... _slamming_ everything." She opened her locker and disappeared into it.

"It's nothing," I groaned. "I'm just trying to get to class, that's all." She poked her head around from the vacuity of her locker and looked at me incredulously. I stood there for too long without making eye contact — I always did that when I lied. I never could just walk away.

"Really?" She inquired skeptically, lifting a perfectly arched brow, disbelief smeared liberally across her face.

"Yes," I whispered. "Really." I still didn't look at her, and then I heard a quiet clank, her locker closing. Dammit. I was a terrible liar.

"Are you sure it doesn't have something to do with -" and as if rehearsed, the second reason for my haste came to fruition and burst through the front entrance, and not just one, God, no, not one, but _all_. _All_ of them. Every single one of them at once. Fucking joy, I thought. Their riotous howls and loud laughter fragmented Leah's concern, and I could've sworn I heard her snarl before she stepped in front of me, blocking my skinny self with her much-taller frame.

"Hey, Leah." I knew that voice. It was Quil. He had paused, and I assumed he was looking for me. "Did the little faglet not come today?" I could hear his smooth laughter, and the unorthodox clamor of chuckles following as the others voiced their mutual amusement.

"Get the fuck out of here," Leah growled, and with what she said next, I could practically hear the complacent smirk adorning across her face: "Unless you want another black eye?" And I heard the jocks begin their silly instigation, their taunting coos of "Ohhh!" and "Don't be scared now, Quilly!", heard them laughing.

I'd realised, sometime earlier this year, that, strangely enough, they actually happened to like my sister, despite the fact that she was _my_ sister. I knew for a fact that Emmett — the biggest football jockey — and Jared — only slightly less gigantic — actually _did_ like her, but I also knew that Leah would never cheat on Jacob. Especially when she already knew what the intense pain of a broken heart felt like.

"Whatever," Quil grumbled. "Where's your little sister?" He sounding irritated, perhaps reminiscing on the agony of his swollen eye. "Trying on his leotard to do his little gay-ass dances on the poles?" His voice was dripped with cruel amusement and disgusted disdain, taunting, provoking. Then I heard the others laughing again, and another feral snarl slipped passed Leah's lips.

"Anyways." That was Jared's voice. He cut her off before she could retort her obvious disapproval. I heard some clothes ruffling, assumed Jared was pushing Quil out the way. "Leah, when are you going to stop playing these games and let me take you out? We all know you want me." The cockiness laced within in his tone was enough to make me want to vomit. I actually gagged (silently, thank God) at the thought of my sister actually being with _that._ He was disgusting.

Leah scoffed, and again I could hear the smirk inevitably donned upon her face, and expected her to be concocting some shrewd retaliation. "Sorry," she said with acidic sweetness, "I'm not a lesbian. You actually _have_ to have balls for me to be interested." I nearly laughed out loud, but instead resorted to snickering softly. And another tirade erupted, instigating. "And what about you Emmett? You got something smart to say?"

I didn't hear Emmett's retort, as I'm guessing he only showed his dimpled grin. Emmett was hot. If he'd been gay, I'd totally be chasing after him. His smile was intoxicating. He was paler than the color white, his complexion imitating the signs of cold, dead skin, but his smile was gorgeous. He had two prominent dimples that sank deep into each of his cheeks, and his teeth were perfect and sparkling white. Sometimes, I wished he wasn't a jock, wished he was gay, but then I'd remember his true colors and be totally turned off; loud, obnoxious, a bully, and a sincere dumbass.

It is my personal opinion that all jocks had been created with the IQ of a popsicle stick. They were all so damn dumb it was truly frightening. But they had to have _some_ type of talent, being at a Performing Arts school and all.

I knew for a fact that Quil liked to draw. His work was plastered all over the school. Jared was into computers, I had found out one day, when Quil had drawn a (quite-detailed) picture of me with a dildo shoved up my rear, and Jared had taken it, used his computer crap skills and put the picture on the big screen in the cafeteria. He had somehow also managed to turn it into a cartoon, where the dildo vibrated and moved in and out of me while I walked along the screen grinning from ear to ear as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The only thing I'd seen him do beyond that on a computer was watch porn.

Emmett and Paul were guitarists. Although dumb as bricks, they were pretty damned good. Well, Emmett was; I'd never heard Paul play.

Come to think of it, I'd never even _seen_ Paul. Ever. As in throughout my entire time at this school.

I'd heard his laugh, and I knew his voice, but Leah was always there to block me, to sheild me from sight. I only knew Paul because Jared and Quil would boast about him playing guitar or kicking some new guy's ass every other day. I guessed he was a fighter. Huh. I hated fighters, mainly because I was sort of a pacifist — call it what you like, but I resented using my fist for anything other than gymnastics and the essentials of life. Nothing more, nothing less.

Garrett and Mike were craftsmen. Again, as blockheaded as they were and as much as I loathed them, I couldn't deny the fact that they were creative. They could make anything out of wood, build anything and recreate anything. _Anything_. I would sometimes silently marvel at their work, but didn't dare a deliberate compliment. I sometimes wondered why Jacob hadn't come here for his craftsmanship. He was damn good with fixing cars, remodeling them, tearing them apart and putting them back together.

Oh well. Anyways.

Neither Jared nor Emmett ever ridiculed me when Leah was near, but they would laugh when Quil or Mike made a discreet or distinct remark. "_Didn't think so_!" Leah snapped fiercely at the abominable pale jockey as he stayed silent, still with that lazy smile I assumed. She could be a total _diva_ when she wanted to be.

"Hey, what's going on here?" I turned at the familiar voice, curious to see who the inquiry was directed toward, and I saw Jake sauntering toward us. He gave me a look out the corner of his eyes as he walked passed; silently telling me he knew exactly what was going on. He and Leah had been together since the beginning of last year, so he was fully aware of the dilemma that transpired almost daily between me and _them_.

Jake. Jacob Black. He was the embodiment of sheer perfection. He was sexy. I always told my sister that, saying how she picked well. Everybody wanted a piece of some of that Black ass. His flawless russet skin, his long silky jet-black hair that fell to the middle of his back but was nearly always in a ponytail for one reason or another, his tall, muscled, built frame that promised unrivaled ecstasy when only given a sideways glance, and his personality was just adorable.

I'd wanted him when I first seen him (let's face it, everyone did), but once he'd spotted Leah, well, ha. We'll just say my fantasies were over. That sounds a lot better than what actually happened, which comprised of me being ridiculously covetous for about three weeks until Leah and I finally had a talk about Jake's sexuality (and it being his choice to chose her). Afterwards, I got over it, realizing that I couldn't want the same guy my sister _had_. It was so unprincipled and wrong. I left it alone.

But leaving Jacob alone wasn't easy; especially when I found out why he had came to a Performing Arts school. Even though he was good with his hands, the school board practically _begged _him to come for another reason, or so I've heard. It was his voice. His music. His singing made you want to cry. He sang so deeply about real issues and real life traumas, and it was filled with so much passion that it was breathtaking. Every time he sang, I swore I could feel tears stinging my eyes, and then I'd look over to Leah who was creating streams from her eye sockets like some damn cartoon character. It's funny as hell, and I'd laugh every time.

Even though Jake wasn't a football jockey, he was athletic. He played basketball, which season's games would be starting sometime in coming spring. By that time, football season will have ended and these jarheads standing in front of Leah will be trying out for basketball. The coach was none other than Mr. Stanford, and you can only guess what he was? He was a bias son of a bitch with basketball too. And you can only guess what his thoughts of a real basketball player was: if you weren't tall and bulky, you weren't a real basketball player. I wonder occasionally if he was a pedophile that just wanted to see tall, bulky teens run around sweating.

But anyways, Jacob was both tall and bulky, so he was always chosen, not to mention always the best player on the team. I always seemed to forget what position he played though.

I blinked from my musings and watched Jacob approach Leah's side, further shielding me behind their bodies as he threw an arm over my sister's shoulder, pulling her close. A few more instigative coos rumbled from the jockeys'.

"Oooh. You better watch out, Jared," Garrett provoked, and I perceived their footsteps shuffling around us, trudging off hopefully. "Jake's gonna kick your ass again you keep talking to Leah like that." Garrett laughed, and Jared snorted.

"I'll get my bro _Paul_ to kick Jake's _ass_," Jared yelled from down the hall, making sure we, and the remaining students bustling through the corridor heard him. As they trudged by us, I caught a glimpse of a boy's profile — his russet skin and the smirk that tugged on the corner of his lips. It was undeniably the sexiest side shot I'd ever seen, and my mind lingered on Jared's statement, realizing again that I'd never actually seen this proclaimed 'Paul' character before.

Paul? Well, it's like I said, I knew his voice — I was long familiar with all of their voices — and I could tell when he was speaking, but I never saw him. Ever. He never threw an insult at me — well, maybe on one or two occasions, but for the most part he was relatively quiet, save for his throaty chuckles.

I also knew I had my third period English class with him, and determined he wasn't the smartest of the bunch — hell, _none_ of them were smart, _at all!_ — if he had a sophomore's English class.

But even knowing that we shared a class together, I wouldn't have been able to put a face to the name — _even_ if someone described him to me. He would sit in the back as always. I knew this for a fact, because I recognized his voice when Mrs. Locke — the English teacher — threatened to send him to the principal's office for_ belligerent behavior and uncouth language_ (daily). But he would take her so frivolously and just laugh in her face about it, reiterating over and over again: "I'm waiting," or "Go right ahead, lady." I would sit in the front though, and to avoid any altercation, I trained myself to never look back at him. He could've been the cutest or ugliest person in the world, but I wouldn't have known.

Then in the next instant, they all disappeared down the hall and struck the corner, and Leah released a captive huff of air, as if she'd been tensed. She deflated then, her shoulder relaxing, and she and Jacob turned to me. I looked up at them, both towering over me. Leah was about 5"9 at most, and Jacob was a whopping 6"5. He was _huge_.

But that was how my encounters with the jocks always went whenever Jake or Leah were close enough to protect me. They'd block me from view, forcing me to rely on only my memory to determine who was saying what. I'd be as silent as possible, trying to avoid the inevitable confrontation that would ensue, not to mention the repetitive name calling and shoving if they were to acknowledge my presence.

"Are you okay?" Leah asked me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. I was unable to formulate an articulate sentence, or even conjure enough of my rationality to tear myself from my musings of the jocks to form a coherent syllable. Instead, I chose to nod.

"Seth — eventually, you're going to have to kick their asses," Jacob grounded firmly. I turned to him, noticing his eyes trained intensely on mine. "You can't keep letting them demean you like that." His brows furrowed in disapproval.

"As much as I agree with you Jake," Leah sighed, "Seth isn't a fighter. He doesn't fight people. It's not in his nature to do. He'd rather help someone than hurt them, believe me… I know." By the time she'd finished, I'd noticed that she too, was staring at me with unwavering eyes. She'd alluded to my break up with Collin. I could've gotten him back for what he did to me; he was younger, smaller, and weaker than I was, but I hadn't had the heart to hurt him as badly as he'd hurt me. I'd just cried the rivers of pain from my aching and bleeding heart until it was over, and I was able to move on.

"I… I gotta go," I whispered, my voice hoarse, my throat dry and lumpy from the remembrance. I quickly turned away from them and scurried down the hall, eluding eye contact with anyone as I sped through the vestibule of students. I even, unintentionally, neglected to respond to Bella's — Jake's best friend — amiable hello and neither did I acknowledge her petite friend, Alice, when she offered me a courteous 'good morning'.

I ignored everyone in my path, refusing to make eye contact, and refusing to supplement an utterance in fear that if I had even tried to speak a word, my voice would crack. I wasn't going to cry, not over remembering Collin. He was old news. I was done with him, so far done with him. I made it to my first class, grabbed a nearby desk and plopped down unceremoniously into the chair, dropping my head into my folded arms, and breaking down into jerking sobs, feeling empty, stinging from the memory of my once abused and broken heart.


	3. Embry Call

**:( I didn't have my beta's help with this chapter, so I hope its at the very least decent for others interest. But I hope he's okay (my beta) and is doing well. ^_^ Well SRE! (Sit back, Relax, and Enjoy!)**

* * *

**Embry Call**

**Why did you change?**

_**- November 16**__**th**__**, autumn**_

_**9: 35am**_

By the time first period was over I had managed to recompose myself. Embry Call — a sophomore and a really good friend of mine and Leah's — had brightened my day considerably. He cheered me up and made me laugh the entire hour once he figured I was upset and I told him what had happened. I had already told him of Collin once before so just muttering his name was enough for him to get the hint. Embry was gay too, and it was no secret that he had a _thing_ for me. He was cute. He had dark skin, short black hair and defined cheekbones and he was tall — taller than me anyways.

He and I met through Leah. He had her dance class, and once she found out he was gay, she just _had_ to point him out to me. Eventually I introduced myself upon much of Leah's persistence that I did, and we clicked automatically. Afterwards we became really great friends, but nothing beyond that, much to his _and_ my sister's discontent.

He was cute, but he wasn't my type. He was somewhat shy, which was adorable in its own way, but it wasn't enough. I'm a gymnast. I can be loud and carefree when I wasn't so intense in 'finding my centre' as coach would put it. But I needed someone who could handle that, as sometimes I have a tendency to fly out of control. Embry wouldn't be able to keep up, although he has always been there for me when I needed him. He was a great confidante.

"Don't worry about it Seth, everything will be fine." He assured me as we stalked out of our Geometry class. Geometry was terrible to have as your first hour. It could get so complicated, especially when your brain was only half functional at eight in the morning, but it did always wake me up.

"I don't know. I hope so." I said hoarsely, heaving a troubled sigh. I felt Embry's hand against my back and felt him rubbing in a circle, the motions soothing my ill-attitude as we sauntered down to his locker and he turned the dial to the correct numbers. I leaned against the locker beside his, my books in front of me. "I mean, no offense to you, but you're gay. Why don't they ever make fun of you?" I asked, genuinely interested.

Embry just chuckled and shook his head before opening the small metal door. "Because, they don't know me," he simply stated, shoving his books into his locker before he took mine from me and did the same. He closed it after grabbing his own Earth Science textbook. "They don't know I'm gay Seth. You're Leah's little brother that does gymnastics."

"Gymnastics isn't gay." I glowered, my tone vulgar. I took that offensively, although I don't exactly know why seeing as though I am gay, but I sometimes don't know why I do most of the things I do. Embry shook his head again and walked away. I followed behind him, maneuvering around the crowd of students striding up and down the hall.

"I didn't say it was, but you do wear a leotard." I gave him a sideways glare, noting him staring at me out his peripheral, smirking. "And you do have to swing around that pole like some acrobatic stripper, and don't even get me started with your warm-up exercises —"

"Alright, alright I get it." I chided, my glare never wavering as I interrupted. "I get your point. It could look…gay at times, but it isn't." I smirked to myself, my glare placating. "Dance is gayer." He only shrugged at my attempts to provoke him.

"Dance is artistic." He replied, not nearly as fumed as I was about his passion being ridiculed. He wasn't upset at all, and that made me even angrier for some reason — I don't know why. "Dance is the shit." He grinned turning to me, and I couldn't stop the smile from crossing my face. That big dumb grin. "But maybe you should ask them why they do it."

I scoffed. "I _know_ why they do it." I growled. "It's because they're all homophobes who are probably only trying to cover up their own closeted fantasies about each other."

"Or Jake." He grinned again and I groaned. He had a thing for me, but he was _obsessed _with Jacob. It was like I said; _everybody_ wanted a piece of that Black ass. It frustrated me how Embry could so blatantly be attracted to the boy while my sister was dating him. "Hey well, you won't give me a chance so my fantasies have to go somewhere." I groaned again. I wasn't going through this with him, not again.

"Whatever." I said, putting a stop to the inevitable and awkward conversation that would ensue if we lingered on the topic for too much longer. "What's your next class?" I asked in a desperate attempt to change subjects. He held his Earth Science book in front of my face.

"Ring a bell?" I just rolled my eyes and pushed it aside. "What about you?"

"Vocal." I seethed. I hated singing, simply because I couldn't sing and it felt like the vocal teacher — Mr. Hanson — was deliberately putting me on the spot to embarrass myself. I loved all the teachers, but I liked him the least. I heard Embry exaggerate a hiss.

"Ow, I'm sorry." But I knew he wasn't. The smile on his face told me he wasn't in the slightest bit sorry. He got a kick out of me embarrassing myself from all the stories I told him, and he wasn't the least bit sympathetic now.

"Liar." He laughed. When we reached the end of the hall I waved him off and we both went our separate ways. My vocal class wouldn't have been so bad if I or anybody else in there could actually sing. I mean, _most_ of them could sing, but none compared to Jacob's voice, and I was always comparing, _always_!

**X:~/~:X**

_**- 11:15am**_

As expected, my music class sucked! Terribly! I swear I was beginning to loath Mr. Hanson, because not once, not twice, but _three_ times had he put me on the spot. I couldn't get the notes right, and he kept saying I was flat or too sharp. I would just wonder, '_damn which one do you want? Do you want me to go higher or do you want me to go lower_?'

Then he said something about a crescendo and I just quit. I don't even know why I had a music class, _I'm a gymnast damn it_! I don't sing! But I was grateful it was finally done and over with — until tomorrow. Damn!

I sauntered to my locker, and angrily twisted the dial to the correct numbers before snatching the door open, a scowl on my face as I waited for Embry to escort me to lunch — his choice, not mine. Man, I was really pissed off though, beyond pissed, livid even.

"Was it that bad?" I turned towards the voice and seen Embry grinning from ear to ear — at the glower on my face and at my misery more than likely. I didn't even hear him coming.

"I swear Em, I'm beginning to hate him more and more." I growled, and he shuffled around me and threw his book into my locker. I heard him chuckle.

"So much hatred inside such a little body." He laughed, but my glower just darkened. I was sick of him mocking me. I got enough of that from the jocks. Embry was about as tall as Leah, maybe 5"10, and I'm willing to put money on advocating that that's why the jocks didn't really mess with him. He wasn't as tall as they were, but he was much taller than me, which makes me easier prey. It was irksome. The way Embry always had something to say about my shortness. He's just mad because I won't go with him, and if he took a second to actually think about it, he would see that insulting me wasn't helping his chances in the least.

I balled my fist at my sides, diverting my glare to the ground as I bowed my head, toiling to assuage my eminent enragement.

"Hey, it's alright," he solaced; taking note of my indignation, and he again caressed my back in a soothing manner. "I was kidding. Everything will work out for you." He cooed condolingly, leaning his head down to whisper the words into my ear softly. I could feel him so close to me, nearly nipping my earlobe with his teeth, but it wasn't surprising that he had managed to alleviate most of my anger with those simple words. He was also able to settle me — strangely enough, not in a way that would justify me ever going on a date with him.

"Hey Embry." We both froze, turning up to the voice reluctantly. It was Jasper, and — from what I can see from the side of Embry — his boyfriend Edward was with him. They both stopped in front of Embry. Both Edward and Jasper were seniors, openly gay too, and perhaps the second and third icons of people's fantasies, for boys _and_ girls.

Jasper Whitlock. He was exceptionally tall, about 6"1. He had curly blonde hair that fell passed his shoulders, alabaster skin, hazel green eyes, and he was an aspiring actor. He was one for the Southern roles; the dusty cowboy, the long ranger, the man who doesn't love his wife anymore but tolerates her because she's his baby's momma. He was into those kinds of roles, and was damned good at them, especially the latter one. He won an award for it. But I think what makes him suitable for those parts is his thickly sensual southern accent. That accent can make a girl's panties drop and give a boy the hardest arousal he ever experienced. I had wanted him, at one point in time.

Edward Masen. He was about 5"11. His hair was disarrayed, but in a sexy way that it fell around his face perfectly, and it was the color of copper pennies. He had the same alabaster complexion as Jasper, and the same hazel green eyes. He was a phenomenal pianist. I once heard him play a segment of Beethoven's Sinatra, and organize a piece done by David Foster, both done phenomenally. He was the suave` type. He didn't have a thick, erotic accent like Jasper, but his voice was smooth and sweet, like honey. I had wanted him _too_, at one point in time.

I had wanted _both_ of them, but the only problem I had with them was, "Hey…" Jasper drawled uncertain. The only problem with me and them is that they never remembered my name. Guessing from the way Jasper was looking at me, with that suspicious look, he probably wanted to call me something that wasn't even remotely close to my name, like Cooper or Anthony — two names they've referred to me as in the past.

"Seth," I supplied for him, somewhat vexed by the constant reminder. I could hear Embry snickering beside me, and I groaned. The bastard knew that neither of them could ever remember my name, and it just tickled him pink whenever he was reminded.

I never even understood how they could recall Embry's name, but not mine. Mine was much easier to remember. I mean really, what the hell is an Embry?

I had asked Embry about it once before, and his bullshit answer was a shrug and then he had said, "I don't know, but I think Jasper's got a crush on me or something," then he grinned, "I'd totally hit that," which I then groaned disgustedly afterwards at.

He had a damn _feeling_ — more of an implausible hunch in my opinion — that Jasper had a crush on him. I don't think so. It was hard to believe since — from what I heard — Edward and Jasper have been together ever since their freshmen year, which means they've been together longer than Jacob and Leah, and the latter couple looked as though they couldn't be anymore in love with each other. Jasper and Edward's feelings had to be eloquent in comparison.

"Right." Jasper smiled softly. "I was going to say that." I tried to give a smile in returned, but it hadn't mattered since in the next instant he turned back to Embry.

"Hey Jazz…Ed." Embry greeted perpetual with a nod, showing his teeth. The bastard. "What's goin' on?" Jasper shook his head, his smile broadening into a subtle grin.

"Nothing really, just…" he trailed, his smile dissolving almost abruptly. I traced his eyes down Embry's shoulder and down the arm that was still placed on the middle of my back. "Oh," Jasper recollected. "Are you two…an item?" He asked, now staring at me with his blended gems. I could've sworn I heard what sounded like disappointment smoldered in his tone. I didn't think twice of it though.

"No," I answered before Embry could, and moved away from under the comfort of his hand. I turned back to Jasper, who seemed to have brightened up simultaneously, but again I took little to no notice at his illumined face. I noted Embry roll his eyes in my peripheral, but I ignored him.

"Oh," he chirped, and turned back to Embry. "Well listen, Edward and I were going out maybe tonight or tomorrow…care to join us? It could be like a double date." He hesitated a moment before turning to me and adding, "You two would come as friends of course."

"But we're not —" rudely, and quite enthusiastically, Embry interrupted me, evidently ecstatic about the idea.

"Hell yeah!" He agreed excitedly. "We'll be there."

But before I could express my disinterest, Jasper replied: "Great. I would love to see you both there," although his hazel gems were intensely tamed upon Embry. His tone was too suggestive, but I took no heed in the matter, only endeavoring to escape the date with Embry. But again, before I could divulge in my disregards to attend, Edward spoke for the first time.

"We should go," he told his boyfriend. "We'll be late for our next class." Jasper nodded to him before turning back to us, grinning.

"Say, seven?" Embry nodded, enlarging Jaspers grin further. "See you guys there," and _again_ his eyes were stubbornly trained on Embry, and _again_, I didn't care to notice as Jasper gave him a quick wink. Embry turned to me once they were gone, an even bigger grin than Jaspers protruding from his face. It was just _out there_.

"Looks like we're going on a date." I groaned and rolled my eyes before irritably slamming my locker close, hearing the metallic clank of the contraption locking on its own accord before I stormed off down the hall.

"As friends," I reminded once he caught up to me. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. This was not a date _date_, this was only a friendly affair, and that was all. Nothing more, nothing less. The circumstance was that we only went as friends, but knowing him, he wouldn't care. It was a date in his eyes, and not just an amiable one, but a romantic one. Turning to look at him I could tell that he was thinking just that.

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say." I groaned again, and accepted that it was hopeless. In his eyes, if it was a date, then I had better believe it's going to be _a date_! Damn you Jasper.

**X:~/~:X**

_**- 12:00pm**_

Once lunch was over, I had become victim to an anxious feeling stirring in my gut. But it wasn't from what you think. It wasn't the food, although that would be understandable. The food wasn't bad, but it definitely wasn't homemade. But no, the feeling surfaced from the thought of going to my third hour class…Paul was in there.

Embry had dismissed himself and headed over to his History class that was about five doors down from my English class once I convinced him that I'd be fine. I now stood in front of the doorway, mesmerized by trepidation and uncertainty, thinking that I could perhaps skip the class, but that was out of the question.

Kim — a gymnast, and another good friend of mine — had the same class, and I was positive she would inquire to Leah if had come today whenever she got around to asking her, which I knew she would, eventually. Leah would give me hell for skipping, which cancelled the thought out _almost_ immediately, a part of me still dangerous enough to consider it.

But my deliberation on the thought was short lived when my English teacher, Mrs. Locke, caught me at the door. "Good afternoon, Seth." She greeted politely, but I hardly took notice. Other students were trampling around me to get through the door, and my arm would occasionally be shoved out the way to make room.

"Seth, you can come on in." She said, smiling. I heard nothing. I couldn't even perceive the incessant clamor of the students filing through the hallway from the first lunch period. I didn't hear the active stomping of kids running, being properly energized from the "meal", and nor did I hear the tempestuous bellowing of excitement from the students lingering about, chattering with their confidantes, boyfriends and girlfriends. The noises around me were silenced in my state of fear.

I didn't understand why I always felt this way everyday before arriving at my English class, especially when I didn't even know what Paul _looked_ like, but I was ascertain that he knew exactly how I looked, and I knew for a fact that he didn't like _what _I was one bit. But the fear was undeniable either way it went. The fear of, what if today is the day he felt the need to introduce himself to me, to show me he didn't accept who I was at all! The thoughts of what he would do — especially since I suspected the fact that he was indeed a fighter — was paralyzing.

"Seth? Sweetheart, are you okay?" Mrs. Locke asked me, genuinely concerned as she pulled me to the side of the door, staring into my eyes. "Is something wrong? Are you feeling well?" She put her hand to my forehead. Her hand was cold, and I blinked out of my reverie. "It doesn't feel like you have a fever," she determined. "Is everything okay?"

I loved Mrs. Locke. She was possibly the nicest woman I ever met. I gave her a smile, despite the apprehension in my gut, and shook my head. "I'm fine." I said as reassuringly as possible. She didn't look convinced. "I'm fine Mrs. Locke, really." Of course it was a lie, but why should I bother her with my problems?

Her gaze was intense against mine as she bent down to eye level with me, grabbing my shoulders. "Are you sure?" She asked, anxious, but I just nodded. She stood her full length after a short while, and tore the immensity of her gaze from me. She gave my arms a few solacing strokes before sighing softly. "Okay," she submitted. "But you make sure you tell me if anything is wrong, you hear me? If you feel sick and feel as though you're about to throw up, you have my permission to leave the room. I'll understand."

"Okay." I answered my smile still in place. She nodded towards the door, gesturing me to go inside, and, hesitantly, I did. I bowed my head as I stumbled to my desk before I slipped into the cold chair. I was at least glad that Paul never came to class before me, he would surely see me if he ever had.

He and Mrs. Locke always got into it about him being late, that's when I knew he would come, and that's when I would make sure I bowed my head to my chest to elude his gaze. That's how I've always avoided him, and that's how I would avoid him today. Now, the only thing left to do was to wait…

* * *

**I had this chapter done for a _very_ long time, but never posted because I wanted to wait on my beta, but considering that many people seemed to like the story so far I figured I'd posted it and say Merry Christmas! Lol! ^_^**

**So tell me your intake, and happy holidays everyone! :)**


	4. Eyes of a Murderer

**Eyes of a Murderer **

**Why did you change?**

_**- November 16**__**th**__**, autumn**_

_**- 12:35pm**_

I sat serenely, intently engaged in the lesson, scribbling down whatever notes were sketched on the board in my notebook. Mrs. Locke had called on a student to answer a question when there was a sudden knock at the door.

"Hold that thought." She told the student, shuffling from behind her desk to get to the door. I heard her heave an irritable sigh when she opened it, and then I immediately knew who it was at the door. I turned to the pendulous clock hanging on the wall.

'_Thirty minutes late_,' I noted to myself. I watched as she stepped out the door, closing it behind her, but not before I heard a vexed groan emanate from Paul, already perceptive of the lecture that would ensue.

We could all hear their discussion, everyone being deathly silent, nosily endeavoring to distinguish what was being said. "Paul, I am sick and tired of your constant tardiness. Where have you been?" She growled at him.

I could almost see Paul rolling his eyes in total disregard to her. "Why are you worried about me?" He asked indifferent.

Mrs. Locke's voice raised an octave. "Because you're not going to keep _strolling_," she really enunciated the word, "into my classroom whenever you feel like it. It is not only disrespectful to you, but also to me and to all the students who bothered to arrive _on time_ to better themselves'." I could practically see her rolling her neck in a ghetto fashion as she told him off.

"Oh my god," Paul sighed frustrated. "Can we just go in the damn classroom?" It was obvious his patience was thinning, even though he was the one at fault, and I could sense Mrs. Locke becoming infuriated.

"You better calm that tone, and watch the type of language you're using with me, Paul." He groaned. "I am not one of your friends, okay? You don't talk to me like that."

"Paul is so rude." I snapped from the conversation happening outside and turned to Kim, noting her shaking her head in dissonance. "Who could raise such a child?" I was sure she wasn't asking anyone in particular, that is until she turned to me with a questioning look. I guess she was expecting my opinion.

I shrugged rigidly. I was too frightened to answer verbally, fearful that Paul might've heard, even though that was highly unlikely. Fear was embedded in my bones when anything pertained to the jocks. She continued on, much to my dismay. "His attitude sickens me. His _face_ sickens me." I wouldn't know. "Ugh…he's just so intolerable and disrespectful."

"Can I just go to class?" My attention turned back to the private conversation — or they thought it was private — outside the door when I heard Mrs. Locke's tone raise another octave, nearly screaming as she interrupted Paul.

"No! You _cannot_ go inside the classroom. Now tell me what had you so caught up that you're thirty minutes late to my class, Paul." She demanded, evidently agitated.

"Stop worrying about what the hell I do, and go teach yo' _damn_ class!" Paul shouted with acridity. He had to be glowering, the acid in his tone was eminent. It was silent for a long while, until Mrs. Locke broke it, dejectedly stating:

"If I keep telling you, you'll never see your faults, Paul. You're just going to have to figure it out and see it for yourself." Then there was another elongated silence, subsequent, but then the door opened.

I quickly bowed my head to my chest, refusing to make eye contact. I could hear the soles of their shoes padding against the tile floor, and then I discerned a pair of mildly abraded sneakers passing by my downcast visual. I assumed that that was Paul. Mrs. Locke's heeled shoes faltered in their clanking as she yielded behind her desk once again.

"I'll just have to have a talk with your coach. You don't seem to initiate any academic inclination, so you shouldn't have the privilege to be on a team." She said uncouth. "I'll be sure you're suspended from the next few upcoming games."

I heard Paul scoff before laughing out loud at her, not even endeavoring to be discreet about it. "Whatever lady." He mocked, and my head bowed further as he squeezed by me to settle into his usual desk in the back of the room.

As rude as Paul was — and _still is_ — for laughing irrepressibly in her face, it was inevitable not to concur with his incredulity. There was no way in hell that Mr. Sanford would suspend Paul from _any_ game for _any_ reason, and especially not for his behavior. I personally believed Sanford agreed and fed off of Paul's ill-manners and belligerence. It seemingly helped him on the field.

I cautiously lifted my head after I was certain that Paul had stumbled to the back and was comfortably seated in his desk. I gauged Mrs. Locke's expression; her face reddened from her suppressed rage. She took a deep breath that I assumed alleviated a portion of that enragement, and with a disappointed shake of her heard, she turned back to the blackboard and resumed her lesson.

"The bastard," I could've sworn I heard Kim say.

**X:~/~:X**

_**- 1:20pm**_

To say that the remainder of the class period with Paul was easy would've been a terrible, _terrible_ lie. And to say that Mrs. Locke was infuriated again would've been an understatement. She was practically blowing steam from her ears and nose like a rampaged cartoon bull. That's why I was sure when the fourth hour bell rang she was rejoicing to have gone another day without blowing a gasket — hopefully she can go tomorrow as well.

But I waited in my desk, idly nitpicking at anything in my proximity, head bowed and clutching my notebook to my chest. Paul was always the last to class but nearly always the first out the door when the bell rang.

He again squeezed by me, his thigh rubbing against my shoulder, and my body jerked forward a little, and reflexively I looked up. I froze. I couldn't believe it, I had _actually looked up_! I heard him elicit a subtle grunt and I knew my eyes were bulging out of their sockets.

When he turned to look back at who had bumped my heart had stopped completely. His dark brown eyes stared fiercely into mine, evoking certain death, and his brows were furrowed, a scowl set in place. He had sharp cheek bones and calloused russet skin that I assumed covered his entire body. So this is Paul?

_God, help me_! I began to inwardly pray. He had only looked at me for a brief second, but in that second my eyes seemed to have run over every aspect of his face, and the image of him was entrenched in my mind. Fear had rooted itself more obstinately inside my core. I knew the torture was about to begin, but at least Mrs. Locke was here to stop it before it got too out of hand. I just hoped he wasn't as rough as Quil, Mike, or Jared. I can't afford anymore broken bones.

Who the hell was I kidding? This guy was ten times worse than all of them put together. Only looking into his eyes mortified my entire being and stirred the apprehension in my gut further. To hell with broken bones, I'm too young to die here._ God, please help me_! All I could do was pray. But much to my absolute bemusement, and not to mention satisfaction, Paul had turned and walked off without utter a word or shoving me or grimacing disgustedly at me.

I stayed frozen and only relaxed when I convinced myself he was gone and wasn't coming back. After about two minutes the room was clear, only I and Mrs. Locke were left together. "Seth." When she called me it sounded as though she was mumbling. My brain hadn't yet taken the necessary precautions to function properly, and I was sort of still in a daze, yet I felt my eyelids blinking.

"Seth?" I heard the inquiry in her voice, but it still only sounded as though she were murmuring, until I noted her standing before me, my eyes still widened and all. "Are you okay sweetheart?" I must not have answered because at that point she had grabbed my shoulder and shook me one good time.

"Huh?" I immediately snapped from my hypnosis, my eyes wandering around the room aimlessly searching — for what, I don't exactly know. Absently I wondered just how long me Paul's confrontation was — if it can even be called a confrontation. "What?"

"Seth," at the mention of my name my attention turned to Mrs. Locke, staring into her brown eyes that were filled with perplexity and uncertainty. "Is everything okay at home?" My brain was still a little under construction, so I assumed I must've answered her too slowly which made her stare at me in disbelief.

"…Ye-yeah. Everything is fine…I'm just, tired." I said. It wasn't entirely a lie. It does get tiring being filled with fear and worrying if you were going to get bashed everyday, but that obviously wasn't my real reason. Her eyes told me of her incredulity, as I'm sure mine told her that I was lying, since I reverted back to my bad habit and wouldn't look at her.

"Seth—"

"Really Mrs. Locke, everything at home is fine." I said with alacrity, smiling, my previous trepidation set aside for the moment. I willed my mind to commence churning the gears again and quickly, before she could bombard me with anymore questions, I gathered myself and propelled from my desk, heading towards the door.

"I wish I could somehow teach Paul —" I heard her saying before I, quite rudely, interrupted.

"I would help if I could Mrs. Locke. I'm sorry," and I was out the door, power walking until I was far enough and I slowed down into a casual saunter. I emitted a demur sigh as my mind raced on its own accord.

**X:~/~:X**

_**- 1:45pm**_

Twenty minutes of unforgivable hell had already gone by as I sat in my fourth hour History class with Mr. Williamson. He was a pretty decent guy, but his class was painfully boring, _painfully boring_! His voice was monotone and he tended to drawl the vowels at the end of each sentence he finished. It was like a lullaby, and by the end of the period nearly everyone was asleep, even myself included.

Thank god Embry was here with me or else I would've been asleep ages ago, dead probably. Our friend Alec had the class too. Well, I wouldn't actually call him a friend of mine since we hardly ever talk to each other outside of this class. We would see each other in the halls but wouldn't even attempt speaking to one another. He was one of those friends that are there for that one hour class period that's enjoyable to talk to. He was more so Embry's friend, but he was nice to talk to.

The room was dark, which was understandable since most of the lights were turned off while Mr. Williamson taught us from the projecting screen that illuminated most of the room. He held a pointer stick and his notebook full of notes, mumbling incoherently about this and that. I wasn't really listening as I tried to ignore Embry whispering into my ear.

"Ah! So you finally saw him, huh?" Embry inquired after Mr. Williamson halted his lecture for a brief moment and started rummaging through his cabinets. Embry grinned impishly. I sighed before dropping my head to my desk, contemplating if I should bang my head against the desk and knock myself unconscious. I regretted telling him anything. Nonetheless, I nodded. "So, what do you think? Would you hit that?" My head shot up immediately as I glared at him.

"You know Em, for you to proclaim that you're such a shy person, you're really blunt." He only shrugged, nonchalant. "You shouldn't make it a habit to lie, you know."

"I never said I was shy, you assumed I was." He murmured. Mr. Williamson had begun talking again. "But would you?" I groaned as I noted another grin overtaking his face. He was so persistent. What part of, I really rather not talk about it right now, didn't he understand when I told him the beginning of class.

"Would you what?" Both Embry and I turned to Alec whose eyes went back and forth between the two of us. He wasn't gay, I didn't think. But he was a clueless sap, because although I'm openly gay to everyone, and Embry is discreet about his sexuality, I highly doubt that he knows that either of us is gay, but we figured he'd find out whenever he opened his eyes and actually _looked_. It wasn't that hard to spot.

I shook my head at him. "Nothing. Embry is just being stupid as usual." I turned back to my friend — the one I can truthfully call my friend. "I unfortunately don't see him getting any smarter in the future."

Embry scoffed before he rolled his eyes. "I just asked a simple question…no need to get your panties in a bunch and entangled up your ass."

"What was the question, maybe I can answer it." Alec offered, and both Embry and I looked at each other, and I discerned the puckish smirk adorn his lips, and desperately begged him with my eyes not to say anything to him. We agreed he'd find out on his own.

"Well, Seth here has a probl —"

"Shut up!" I growled, propelling halfway out of my desk and clasping my hand over his mouth. Then I heard someone clearing their throat and I turned to the front of the class where I saw Mr. Williamson's half lilied eyes staring uninterested at me.

"Excuse, but Mr. Clearwater, is there something you'd like to say?" I quickly moved back upright into my seat and shook my head. "Well please; can you and your "posy" stop interrupting my class?" He drawled, and I could just feel my eyelids getting heavier, and I regrettably and involuntarily yawned at him in response. His eyes fixed me a glower, and I was slightly taken aback.

"Sorry," I murmured. "We won't interrupt again." Mr. Williamson turned back towards the projecting screen, and started point at locations on a Middle Eastern map. I looked around the class, and as expected, more than half the class was dead sleep.

I sighed. At least Embry has to stop badgering me; I thought and closed my eyes. Two seconds later I felt something hit me in the face and I glared over at the only culprit. Embry pointed to my desk and I looked down and unfolded the paper that read:

_Would you?_ I stared at the piece of paper in disbelief. _This jackass, _I thought to myself. I snarled under my breath before picking up my pencil and scribbling: _Leave me alone_, and tossing it back at him, hoping it would hit him in the face like he did to me, but he caught it instead.

I saw him grimace at the paper and then grin. I saw his pencil carving into the paper before he balled it up and threw it, again hitting me in the face. I furrowed my brows. _Damned shit reflexes_! I cursed to myself. I unraveled the paper.

_Damnit, just tell me. Tell me and we don't have to go with Jasper or Edward today…or tomorrow…or whenever the hell they're going out._ That was a good deal, which was my first thought, but then that would mean I would have to remember those piercing eyes that felt like they were stabbing me in the chest and forehead. I sighed. I really didn't want to go out with them, so I forced myself to endure.

Paul. Would I have done it with, Paul? Wait, I was still a virgin. What the hell was I thinking? But despite his eyes radiating certain death, they were pretty I guess. In their own, dark, demented and morbid, "I want to kill," sort of way. His cheek bones were sharp and defined, and that was kind of sexy…I think. They actually seemed scarier than his fists, like they would cut you if he smiled. His skin was sort of like mine and Leah's, and mindlessly I wondered if he was a native like us, but his russet skin was rougher, but I suppose that came from the years of athleticism and getting hit in the face from fighting.

It couldn't be helped. Paul was an all-around scary person, and now I understood why the jocks relied on him in their time of need and desperation to kick somebodies ass. It was because if they couldn't, he most definitely could, and he frightened and disturbed my very soul.

I picked up my pencil and wrote my answer before throwing it at Embry, rejoicing with a grin when it hit him in the face. He looked around perplexed until his eyes came upon the note on the desk and he opened it to read. His countenance twisted in what could only be confusion. He looked to me with a smirk.

"Knew it," was all he said, and I rolled my eyes and folded my arms across my desk before laying my head down, deciding not to talk to him for the rest of the period. I was, soon than expected, taken away by Mr. Williamson's lullaby.

* * *

**A lot of people favorite this story after only three chapters, so I figured I'd start it up again. It's been awhile. Lol. I hope I still know where I'm going with this. ^_^ I did make an outline of this story before writing it, so I should know what all is supposed to happen. We will see.**

**BUT it is unbeta-ed, so if anyone is willing then please shoot me a message. Anyhow, tell me what you all think, 'kay?**


	5. The Usual

**The Usual**

**Why did you change?**

**- November 16th **

**- 2:20pm**

I laggardly stumbled up the hall, my eyes tacked with sleep as I tried to rub them awake. I yawned. "I'm tired, Em." I mumbled. I heard him laugh in my ear. His laugh was light, cheerful, and almost childlike.

"I know." He chuckled. "The drool is still on your arm." He pointed out, and I looked at the saliva coating my skin before trying to wipe it off. "It took me forever to try and wake you up. You haven't been sleeping very well have you?" I shook my head, too tired to even attempt to concoct a lie. "Well we have one more boring class of the day, and then the school is opened up for the arts."

I smiled. I lifted myself up after realizing I was leaning against Embry for support. "Yeah, and then I can finally have fun and stop worrying."

"You don't have fun with me?" I heard Embry ask. I didn't turn to look at him but I clearly perceived the hurt he was feigning. I rolled my tired eyes; halfway through I thought I was falling back to sleep. Damn. Was I really that sleepy?

"Em, you know it's an adventure every time I'm with you…My life wouldn't be as interesting without you." I found myself slurring, and again I heard Embry's innocent laughter.

"Man, you sound drunk, Seth," he chuckled. "Is this how you act when you're sleepy?" I nodded. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. "Well listen," Embry laughed as he caught me when I stumbled over my own feet, my eyes closed, "I have to go to English. You think you can make it to your next class without getting hurt…or lost, drunkie?"

"I'm tired. Not inebriated. I'm fine. I just have to go to my locker first and get my book." I yawned. "Then I'll go. Earth Science is only on the fourth floor."

"Yeah, but your locker is on the first floor." He replied, but I didn't respond. "Okay," he shrugged. "I'll see you later then." He waved before cutting a corner and disappearing, leaving me alone and surrounded in a corridor full of bustling students and teachers returning from lunch or changing classes.

I figured I should leave since I only had five minutes between classes, and three of those minutes had already passed. I was kind of surprised that Embry hadn't harassed me about my choice dealing with Paul, but I guess I didn't really make the opportunity present with me falling all over the place. I smiled. _I'm willing to burst my face wide-open if that's all it takes_, I thought as I moved towards the staircase and down to the first floor to my locker.

**X:~/~:X**

By the time I reached my locker on the first floor the halls were cleared. I had pretty much guessed that I was going to be late getting to class, but considering how tired I was, I really didn't care to burden myself with it. So I sluggishly slouched over to my locker and twisted the dial to the correct combinations.

I buried my face in my locker as I searched for my Science textbook. I groped for the thick book, grabbing it after shifting aside other miscellaneous things. I saw my reflection in the mirror hanging in my locker from my peripheral, and I could have sworn my heart had skipped three beats at the double that stared back at me.

I looked horrendous. Lightly shaded dark rings blemished under my eyes, my eyes themselves were puffed and red, whilst a light shade of pink was tinted in the corners of my eyes. _My God! Is this what a thirty minute naps do to people_? I gaped.

I sighed before a wearisome yawn escaped from past my lips. "I'm still sleepy," I groaned to no one.

"The fairy did show today, huh?" I froze. The fatigue that captivated my body only moments ago, dissolved in an instant from the familiar tone. I tentatively moved my head to the side, confirming my suspicions as I gazed into the mirror, discerning it reflect both Mike and Garrett daunting smiles; smiles that promised nothing more than a beating.

I reflexively closed my eyes when I was suddenly jerked by the nape of my shirt and shoved against the opposite wall, groaning when I impacted into the rough surface. My heart was hammering behind my sternum, and my knees buckled from under the weight of my trepidation.

I stared submissively into Garrett's icy orbs, feeling my own quiver under the intensity. It was as though they were silently daring me to fight back against them, but I wasn't prideful, nor foolish enough to do something so reckless, knowing the pain I would endure would be tripled if I had.

An abrupt _bang!_ resounded before I could even register everything that was happening. The shudder that went through my body, I'm sure, didn't go unnoticed as I looked past Garrett's earnest glare and my eyes fell upon Mike's menacing scowl. _I'm going to be late for class_. The random thought just popped into my head. From where? I had no clue.

"We were looking for you earlier," Garrett cooed ominous, adorning a smirk to match the mortifying glower already set in place upon his face. His hand slammed into the wall beside my head, and I flinched. I really wished I hadn't been scared. They seemed to feed off of fear. "Where were you?" He sneered, his smirk twisting into a scowl identical to Mike's.

Then I heard Mike scoff before approaching and placing his hand on the opposite of my head. "I knew it," he grimaced, his eyes intensely trained on mine as they narrowed to show me his evident disdain and superiority. "That bitch sister of yours hid you, did she?" My body trembled wantonly, and my eyes aimlessly shifted, untamed on anything.

"Hey." My eyes locked on Garrett as he glowered at the other jock, pushing his shoulder warningly. "Watch that shit, man. I like Leah."

"I don't care," Mike barked back. "I don't like that bitch, and I _don't_ like yo' faggot-ass either!" He gripped a fistful of my hair and wrapped it around his knuckles, and I again instinctively closed my eyes, hissing as he forced me to bow my head to my groin.

"St-stop!" I squawked.

"The fuck you say?" He snarled in my ear, and I moaned as his grip only tightened because of my rebellion, and then I felt myself thrown to the floor on my face, and I moaned again. I squeezed my eyes tighter as soundless groans omitted from my orifice. The sound was lodged behind the lump in my throat and was being crushed in my chest by the foot being grounded into my back.

"Mike…man, calm down," I heard Garrett protest. He sounded frightened for my life, or rather scared that he would go to prison if I died and he was still around. I had actually considered playing dead just then.

The weight on my back lifted, and figured that Garrett had somehow managed to pull the enraged boy away from me. I didn't move though. I was too stunned by how loud my heart was pulsating in my ears, and I could hear the blood flowing. I didn't know when it happened, but I had started hyperventilating at some point, gasping desperately for air. It had also gotten extremely hot, and I just wanted to take my clothes off, or get away from anything that emanated heat.

"What? Bro, is you scared?" I managed to perceived Mike say, pressuring Garrett further. "Man, do you like pussy or are you a pussy?" The skepticism in his tone was obvious, and I was ascertained that it was only to pressure him even more. I hadn't heard Garrett's reply, but I assumed he answered to his friend's complacency, since the next thing I felt were quick and forceful punches and kicks pummeling into my back, neck, head, legs and ribs. There were just too many hits to only be one person.

I hissed at the sharp pains. I grunted when they let me be for a moment before resuming to kick and punch, and I moaned and groaned when I felt them strike the same place repeatedly. At some point I used my arms to shield my head and neck from their assaults.

On top of being beaten miserably, I noted that I was inhaling and exhaling less frequently, my hyperventilation worsening. I thought I was going to have an anxiety attack, or possibly just faint altogether. Their beating stopped after another minute of them thrashing and lamenting their homophobic hatred against me.

I couldn't feel anything anymore; not their punches or kicks, or the pain my body had succumbed to. I didn't know if it was because I had actually fainted, or because my body had gone completely numb from the constant beating as it usually did. But I could feel my heart pulsing in my chest, and the strangled gasps I made as I dreadfully reached for air.

"…Paul. What are you doing? I thought you went to Pre-Cal with Quil and Em?" I don't know who asked the question, because what little rationality I had left had focused entirely around the first word this person had said.

Paul. _Paul…what did that mean_? I tried using what little part of my mind that hadn't been surrounded in fog and the need to be unconscious to put two and two together, but I couldn't. I noticed that it had become even harder to breath when Paul's name was mentioned.

I don't know evil possessed me, or if it was just the disorientation getting to me, but I stiffly turned my head to the side, and slowly opened my eyes as I distinguished Paul standing rigidly. His hands were in his pockets and he was glaring at Mike and Garrett. He hadn't even looked my way, as if I was nonexistent, or he just didn't care that I was lying on the floor on the brim of unconsciousness.

"The fuck you say to me?" Paul had bit off, his glower darkening, and my eyes quivered and blurred just staring into them. Those eyes with the intent to kill any and everything that had a spasm of life in it were filled with so much anger and abhorrence that I didn't even know was remotely possible for one person to have inside them. I closed mine as I remembered what Paul meant.

_Certain death…I'm going to die._ I remembered, feeling the pace of my heart slowing considerable beyond what I knew was normal, darkness tinting the corners of my eyes as I began to lose consciousness…or die. Which one it was, I wasn't entirely sure.

"N-nothing…" I heard one of the others sputter, and I remember thinking to myself: _Are they scared of him_? Then I looked up, noting the murderous glint in his eyes, and convinced myself that anyone would be insane not to be afraid of him.

"Wh-what's wrong bro? You look pissed."

"I am fuckin' pissed!" Paul had shouted, at least I think he shouted. He looked animated when he said it, but to my ears it sounded like nothing more of a mere whisper. The sight of him was beginning to blur and darken. "That bitch Locke got me suspended from both games next week!"

"Oh damn…what? Man, Paul she can't do that…we need you bro." My body started to lax, and my arms fell limply from my head, and I think I saw Paul acknowledge my presence for the first time, but he didn't move. He only stared. I think he was staring…I could barely see anything; everything was so blurry. "Aye…you wanna hit this faggot. That shit'll make you feel better. I promise you that, bro." Whose ever voice that was, the smug grin on their face was obvious to note, despite not looking at either one of the other two boys.

"Naw…yall can do whatever. I'm about to go skip the rest of the day and just go chill at the spot." Paul said. His tone was less hostile, but his glower was definitely still in place. I could see that as clear as day.

"Oh we can go with you. He borin' anyways. His gay-ass don't even put a fight no more to make it interesting." _Were they talking about me_? I thought. Then I assumed that since I was the only "gay-ass" in the situation then yeah, they were.

"Whatever." I saw Paul turn around and walk down the hall, his hands still in his pocket. Mike and Garrett jumped over me, following behind him. "Here," I think I heard someone say as the distance between me and them lengthened. Then I closed my eyes to just surrender to the defeat and fall unto nothingness.

"Why the hell are you so damn weak?" I opened my eyes, but they only cracked open meagerly. I felt myself moving, or rather…being carried whilst pressed against something warm. I wanted to get away from the heat, I was already too hot! Were they trying to burn me alive? I remember thinking in my comatose state.

My eyes shifted around of their own self-control, and I perceived the blur with the glower on its face, and immediately I knew it had to be Paul. "Don't expect this shit again." I tried to speak, but my speech was impaired.

I couldn't resist the darkness calling out to me any longer, its siren song was so coaxing, and I closed my eyes. Before even realizing it, I was gone.

**X:~/~:X**

I awoke two hours later. I sat up and looked around stiffly. The muscles and tendons in my neck felt tight and tensed, not to mention the rest of my body that burned and ached. Where was I, I thought. To say that I was just confused wouldn't have exactly been true. It was more like hammered or hung-over. My head throbbed and I didn't know where I was. Then the door to my right opened.

"Nurse Cullen?" I inquired to her when she entered the room.

"Seth, you know you're free to call me Esme like everyone else." Her solacing voice rang as she closed the door behind her. She wore a smile, as she did at all times. Mrs. Cullen — or Esme as she liked to be called but I could never bring myself to say — was another one of the nicer staff members, a permanent smile donning her face and reassurance that always embracing her tone. I came to know her really well with all the beatings that the jocks gave me last year. "How are you feeling?"

I tried to nod, but found that it took too much effort and was too straining on my neck. "I'm fine." I obviously lied. If I was in the nurse's office then apparently something was amiss. "How did I get here?" I finally asked, but she ignored the question.

"Seth, sweetheart…how many times have we gone through this last year?" She asked her smile only slightly in place. She sauntered over to me and gently grabbed one of my arms and lifted up the sleeve and I winced as a bluish-purple bruise was revealed marred over my skin. My eyes felt heavier as I stared at the discolored pattern. I got bruises like these all the time when an encounter between me and _them_ transpired. "Sweetie, you're obviously not fine. Similar bruises are covered all over your back and sides," she rolled down my sleeve and gingerly placed my hand back into my lap before walking over to the sink across the room.

"Seth," she began again. "I know you asked me not to get involved with everything," she washed her hands and moved over to the cabinets to prepare a mixture of different liquids and syringes, "but don't you think it is about time that someone, if not you, did something about this? It hurts me to see you like this."

"I know," I sighed. "I'll handle it." I didn't sound too convincing, and I knew she wasn't buying it from the sudden pause in her movements. I heard her reply, "okay," compliantly before proceeding with her concoctions. My eyes fell back to my arms and I pulled the sleeve up to once again discern the ugly bruise. It was tender, and just the air touching it seemed to agitate it. "Nurse Cullen?" I called.

"Esme." She corrected jovially, her solemn tone form moments before abated. I disregarded her correction.

"What time is it?"

"I believe around four, maybe four-thirty. I've been busy all day, I haven't really been paying attention, sorry. But you have been out for nearly two hours."

"Two hours! I'm so late for practice!" I cried, and without thinking, attempted to shift and get out of the bed, piquing my injuries further, and I hissed. Despite my body seething and abhorring me with every fiber and cell in my body I land onto my feet.

"Practice?" Esme giggled. She turned to look at me, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "How do you expect to practice in that condition?" I grinned to her.

"I've done it before I haven't I?" I countered, which she laughed at before turning back to grab things from atop her cabinet, and I rigidly dragged my aching body towards the door.

"If you can I suppose. Don't push yourself too much, you hear? I don't want to see you back here for a while, or at all if possible…just be careful, okay?" What she was alluding to was apparent, and I hummed in response. "Oh and Seth," I heard her call just before I left out the door. "I'm sorry for ignoring your earlier question, but Paul was the one who brought you, you know the football player?"

My hand trembled around the doorknob as a million and one inquires bombarded my mind at once , but I was able to successfully sustain most of my qualms inside. "You know, Paul?" I asked instead, my voice as audible as a whisper.

I saw her nod. "Yes. He gets into a lot of fights," she scrunched her nose. I believed that was her way of expressing her dissention of his aggressive mannerisms. "He's in here more than you are." Inwardly I was wondering why she was telling me about someone who terrorized me on a daily basis, but then I figured it was because I asked, and not to mention that I never told her that Paul had been associated with the gang that would coerce me.

Actually, thinking about it…I don't believe he ever did strong-arm me like the others, a few insults, but never any punches. I think I would remember if he hit me. His fists looked like they hurt, and like something you couldn't forget if you were struck by them. I shrugged to myself.

"Oh…"I said dumbfounded. "I'll…be sure to thank him…I guess," and with that I left her on her other side of the door. _You? Thank Paul? Forget it._ I hear my conscious say, and I totally agreed. There was no way in hell that would happen.

I decided to forget about it and cautiously stumbled to the gymnasium to go practice, wincing ever now and again when the severe pain began ache my muscles, but I endured, as always, and practiced. Nothing would keep me from my love of gymnastics, especially not the likes of _them_!

I reached the gymnasium doors and fixed myself upright. I had to feign a smile, and happy attitude that I didn't have in me unless I wanted to hear another one of coaches lectures. So I fixed myself on my two feet, and prepared for my close up. I sighed.

"It's the usual." I grieved to myself before putting the smile back onto my face. Then I opened the doors.

* * *

**I'm starting to get back into the groove of things. **

**Note: Still not beta-ed…any takers…any takers at all? Lol**

**But tell me what you think.**


	6. Because She Loves Me

**Because She Loves Me**

**Why did you change?**

**- November 16th **

**- 5:15pm **

I was scolded for being an hour and fifteen minutes late for practice, but what was even worse was the lecture I got when Ms. Mayberry forced the truth out of me — I don't know how she did it. So everything that I tried to avoid from her came to fruition, and I was scolded and lectured.

Ms. May knew about everything that went on between me and _them_, and similar to Mrs. Cullen, Leah, and my parents, she wanted to take the initiative and do something about it. But also similar to the rest, I persuaded her that I could handle it, and not to intervene until _absolutely_ necessary. I don't know if it was my pride that made me say things like that — as if I had any left at this point — or stupidity, but I strongly believed it was the latter.

She asked to see the bruises, saying that she guessed that they weren't as bad as they could've been or have been in the past; such as broken bones. The jocks were suspended for that, nearly expelled, so I supposed they opted to not go that far unless we were off school grounds and saw me in the streets alone. It was kind of frightening to think about; like a stalker, or a murderer in the night that you knew was coming to get you the moment your defenses were down or weakened.

But she preached on for the last thirty minutes of practice, as I was only able to fool her for fifteen minutes, and I watched as everyone else practiced. Kim came over to see if I was okay, I assumed it was because our coach was talking to me and I was sure that I had a sullen expression on my face. I lied and told her I was fine, figuring out last year that she wasn't too keen on detecting my lies like Leah, Embry, and everyone else was.

She didn't know about the whole jock situation, and I wasn't planning on telling her. It would just mean that I would have to persuade one more person not to arbitrate with anything. And I knew that it would be useless to try and convince Kim of all people not to say anything to _them_ or higher authorities — her righteous ass! But I loved her.

But finally I had escaped Ms. May's everlasting lecture and stumbled awkwardly to my locker and twisted the dial. Flashes of what happened hours earlier came back to me, but I pushed them aside. I figured I lost my Science book in that commotion, seeing as though when I was jerked and shoved into the wall it had fallen from my hands, and now I don't see it anywhere.

_Well that's 85 dollars coming out of Dad's pocket._ I thought to myself. _Why did I come to my locker again_? I didn't bring a jacket for the cool weather, and I had copied down the homework for English that was written on the bored. I grabbed the third period notebook as I reminded myself of the work I had to do and shut the locker, hearing it lock on its own accord.

I guessed Leah was waiting outside for me. She always was because her "baby" needed a few minutes to warm up, especially in this chilling climate. Leah and I never wore coats or jackets during the fall season. It was probably because we were accustomed to the cold air, having lived on the Reservation for nearly all of our lives, but winter was another story. That's when shit became cold for us.

I limped down the hall, fixing myself upright again for Leah's sake. I had decided not to tell her anything, and then I opened the door, my eyes immediately spotting that rusted and busted old, bright red Celebrity Buick. It was coughing smoke out its muffler, vibrating as the liquids passed through the car and warming it up.

Uncaringly I stepped down the steps as if the action didn't send signals of objection through my body. I walked slowly, but undetectably. I hadn't realized it immediately, but from my peripheral as I sauntered towards Leah, who I noted bending over in the car and groping for something on the floor, I saw the jocks staring at me. I didn't turn to look at them, but I noted them in my peripheral.

They were all leaning against the bed of a Black Sierra Truck, grinning roguishly, and I presumed they knew what had happened. I counted them, and three were missing, but I figured that it must've been the three that cut school early; Mike, Garrett, and Paul.

Paul. He had been in my thoughts frequently, all day for some reason. It's as if he wouldn't allow me to forget him, because every time I managed to shift my thoughts elsewhere, something happens to revert them back to him. _Perhaps I should thank him._ I thought, still aware of the three pressed against the truck. _He helped you…that don't mean he likes you. It was pity. _I argued with myself, and again I agreed and decided to leave it alone.

"He don't look too hurt," I thought I heard Jared say.

"Mike and Garrett are weak as hell." That was Quil's voice. "C'mon, y'all wanna get 'em?" A shiver ran down my spine, and my eyes focused on the red Buick, my body urging me to hurry and get to that broken piece of crap car.

"Naw, fuck it. Leave'em alone…Next time though." That was definitely Emmett, and I heard Jared agree with him, but I didn't let my guard down. Just because those two didn't want to jump on me some more that didn't mean Quil wouldn't do it alone…they never have done it alone, but there is a first for everything.

"Whatever. Y'all just sprung on her sister," Quil scoffed.

"Well, she is sexy as hell." I heard Jared say before I finally reached the car and nearly ripped off the handle and plopped down — my body would kick my ass for it later — in the passenger's seat as I tried not to grunt in discomfort.

By the time I got in the car and was situated and comfortable, Leah was still groping for whatever she was looking for. She didn't even give a "hello" or "how are you". Rude.

"What are you looking for?" I finally asked.

"My damn cd case." She muffled from under her seat. "I can't find it." I sighed and popped open the glove compartment, and grabbed the case.

"Here." I said, handing her the pack of cds. "I told you I put them in there."

"Oh yeah. Forgot." She plugged her cd player into the radio, pushed the small cassette tape in before choosing a disk and setting it in the cd player. She skipped a few songs until she came upon the song that I was certain she was about to play. Then she pressed play.

"This isn't that same —" but before I could finish, the sounds blaring from the radio confirmed my suspicions. It was _SClub 7's_ "Never Had a Dream Come True". It was the first song Jake had sung to her when they first got together, saying: "Whenever you think of me, and I'm not there, remember this," and then he started singing and she wouldn't shut up for weeks about it. She then eventually found the _SClub 7_ cd and bought it from a garage sell, instantly falling in love with it. But I think it's because she hears Jake's voice and not the lady singing.

I groaned. Gosh, she had been playing this song since forever. It was a nice song, but damnit don't ruin it. Somewhere along the second verse she turned down the volume.

"So, how was everything today?" She asked. I turned to look out the window before I answered, that way I didn't look too suspicious of lying, although I was sure as hell about to.

"It was okay." It was easy for me to lie in the car: a.) because I always look out the window anyways so it didn't seem too off from the norm if I avoided eye contact; and b.) because the other person had to pay attention to the road and not me.

"That's good…So, why were you not in your Science class today?" I didn't answer. "I got excused from class to give your Science teacher some forms fourth period, but I didn't see you in there. Where were you?"

"I was…helping the counselors." That wasn't too far off from home plate either. I did help them often since I usually finished my work early in my classes, and when given permission I would go and help them with a few things, especially now since they enforced mandatory community services hours this year. Leah and the other seniors were fortunate enough that they didn't have to commit to it, but everyone else needed one hundred hours of community service in order to graduate.

"Oh, okay. Did you get your hours?"

"Yeah." I said, and with that she replayed her song and turned the volume back up, this time singing-along and swaying back and forth as her fingers drummed against the wheel. I rolled my eyes, but otherwise kept quiet. Jake made her happy, and I was happy for her. I smiled to myself as I escaped to my inner reverie, contemplating my day, and expectantly, I thought of Paul. But my mind wouldn't allow me to deliberate on the rest of my day, because from then on my musings were stuck on him for the remainder of the ride home.

**X:~/~:X**

After arriving home twenty minutes later, Leah and I dropped our things and went to go wash our hands before heading to the dining room for dinner, which Mom commonly had ready by the time we got home. I again had to prepare my façade, this time for my parent's sake as well. They truly did worry too much sometimes, and also Leah was still around, and she tended to be livid when I would get beaten up by the jocks and not tell her, and then she finds out later on that I came home with bruises all over me. In those moments, she turned into the spawn of Death.

But dinner went smoothly without any indications that I had been beaten mercilessly and then fainted because I hyperventilated — which wasn't ordinary. It was the first time I ever felt as though I was having an anxiety attack. But I didn't think much of it; terror was pretty much overtaking my life, so that's what I passed it off as, fear.

Around six-thirty, I had finished eating. I disappeared up the stairs to my room and immediately began working on my English assignment. It wasn't hard. English was never a hard subject for me. The work was more so tedious and unexpressive. I loved to write creatively, but when five paragraph essays were due I wasn't exactly excited about it. They were boring and didn't seem to show how well I can justly express myself through lead and a piece of paper.

I was the best writer in the class — not to brag, but I was. Mrs. Locke knew of my talent and potential, and offered, on many occasions, to put me in advanced placement classes or show my work to committees that would give me scholarships. She was always looking out for me, and that's why I loved her. But her work was boring. Nevertheless, I completed the routine assignment and left my notebook on the work desk before stalking over to my bed and collapsing into a heap of pain and tensed muscles.

I winced. I laid still for a while until the pain waned, and I sighed. _Paul_. His name had suddenly jumped into my head as I stared up at the ceiling, my uniform clothes still suffocating me. Why I had chosen to buy tight-fitted shirts and pants, I hadn't the slightest idea, but I suppose it had something to do with having clothes on and still feeling naked. I liked being nude. It was relaxing.

_Paul_. My mind insisted. I blinked twice.

"What am I supposed to do about him?" I asked aloud, arguing with myself.

_Paul._ My mind was stuck on him for one reason or another. But I wanted my thoughts to go away. I wanted silence, but they were stubborn and flared and shouted the name louder in my head until I was cringing from the headache that was beginning to form in the back of my brain.

"Would you leave me alone?" I shouted. Then I looked around, but no one was there. I sighed cumbersome. _Great. I'm talking to myself now_. I thought. I lifted myself up with a groan, and inflexibly I ran my hand over my face, yawning afterwards. I decided to end this stressful day and take a shower before going to bed, knowingly, only to wake up to another stressful day ahead.

Languidly, I padded into the brightly lit vestibule, grabbed a face and body towel from the hallway closet and went into the bathroom at the opposing end of the corridor. I turned the water on, along with the showering nuzzle and waited for the water to warm as I prudently stripped myself of my clothes, mindful as not to irritate my injuries too much.

Once I had everything off, grimacing every now and again as the air kissed and agitated my tarnished bruising's, I looked in the mirror, stiffly turning this way and that way as I examined the reflection of my battered body.

Nurse Cullen wasn't exaggerating when she said my back and sides had been littered with these ugly markings. They varied in sizes, some bigger than others, but they were all hideous just the same. I started prodding at the splotches, hissing and wincing when I touched them. They were tender. I sighed, a dejected sigh before turning back to the mirror and opening it from the side and disclosing different medicines from pills to ointments, and from bandages to short gauze wrappings.

I grabbed the ointment my Mom used the first time she ever saw bruises like these flaw my skin. She generally kept some in the house — I believed for occasions such as this. The green and white ointment tubs were in different places all around the house that I didn't care to look for, but I could always find some in the medicine cabinet. It would erase the pain by the next day, but the bruises would take time to heal themselves.

I smoothed the cream over the overly sensitive skin, across my arms, back and sides, eliciting soft whines when I subtly caressed the contusions.

The door burst open. "Seth, have you seen my — Oh my God!"

"Leah! What the hell are you doing!" I screamed, trying to cover my naked frame as she shielded her eyes with her hands.

"I'm sorry! I heard the shower and I thought you were in it!" I grabbed my body towel and tried to wrap it around my upper body, but I guess it was too late. "Seth, what happened?" She asked, her brows furrowing in confusion as he gaze scowled at the colorful welts covering me. I wrapped the towel around me anyways and didn't reply. "Seth, what the fuck happened to you?" She growled malice, stomping over towards me, and I flinched and clenched my teeth when she briskly grabbed my arm.

"I-I…practice. I fell." I lied, and I looked away from her.

"You're not that damn clumsy…It's all over you. Did they fucking touch you?" She was fuming, livid.

"N-no! I told you I fell during practice." She saw through me far too easily, because the glower on her face darkened, and abruptly she jerked me by my arm and dragged me out the bathroom.

"Don't lie to me!" She bit off, dragging me down the stairs, whilst I was covered with nothing but a towel and some bruises. I stumbled over my own feet, but before I could fall down the steps we had already reached the bottom.

"I'm not lying!" I retorted. It was obvious that I was, but I didn't give up on trying to.

"What is going on?" I heard Mom asked when we made it to the living room. Dad was there too, sitting on the couch with his arm around her shoulder, and as if I was supposed to perform, Leah threw me in the center of the room, while she stood to the side, yelling and scream.

"Look at that!" She screamed. "I'm sick and tired of this shit! Either somebody is going to do something about it now, or I'm killing all of those bastards tomorrow!"

"Seth, what is this? What happened to you?" Mom asked softly.

"You know what happened!" Leah interjected, her anger seeming to escalate to new heights in just a couple of seconds. "Those same dumb mothafuckas keep putting their fucking hands on him because he's gay! So the fuck what!" She had entered her tirade mode, and it was going to take a lot to calm her down. Her eyes were turning red on the edges and she paced angrily back and forth, screaming irate obscenities at the top of her lungs.

"Leah!" Dad shouted. "Calm down and watch that type of language around me and your mother."

"No! Fuck that! I'm killin' every last one of 'em!" There was no help for her now. My eyes started to water. I hated when she got like this. It was scary. Not because she was screaming and making threats, but because she would actually attempt to kill them. She entered her tirade mode during her break up with Sam two or three years ago, and threatened to kill him and beat the hell out of Emily afterwards.

That day she had gone ballistic, came home, grabbed a knife and went back over to Sam's where he and Emily were still lying on the couch. I followed after her, making failed endeavors to alleviate her rage. She yelled and screamed and cried as she lunged at him — and Emily when she was in the way. She cried lewd comments and lunged again — she would've gotten him if Emily hadn't tried to push her away, and instead she made a gash down her face.

Emily fell to the floor crying and holding her bleeding and bloody her face. Leah had dropped the knife, crying, still hollering a string of curse words as she stormed out the house, knocking things over that was in her way — the china cabinet she pushed over though, I think was just for the hell of it — before leaving. I followed her back home, still trying to placate her.

When we reached the house, she fell onto the living room floor and cried harder, and I sat and said soothing things to her for two hours until she finally leaned against me and cried into my shoulder instead. Another two hours went by until she finally decided to speak.

It was one of the scariest and most depressing times I had ever seen my always strong-willed sister go through. And it hurt me now to think that I was the cause of her invective now. At least, I felt as though it was my fault. Maybe if I was strong like her, or bigger, or knew how to fight I could've done something, but I'm not. I'm not strong like her. I'm not big, and I don't know how, and neither do I condone fighting, due to my pacifistic values.

"I'll handle her." Dad said, moving of the couch and taking Leah outside where I could still hear her cursing and screaming. I felt a tear roll down my cheek and my Mom wipe it away with her thumb. I didn't notice when she kneeled in front of me, meeting me at eye level, both of her hands gingerly caressing either of my bruised arms, but it didn't hurt. The ointment must have been kicking in.

"Sweetie. I know you want to handle things on your own, but things don't seem to be getting any better." Her eyes traveled down my body at the discolorations that were marred all over me, and I noted her eyes fill with something comparable to stress and concern. "I'm thinking about pressing charges…" she said, meeting my eyes again. "They already have them on file for the broken bones incident, so it shouldn't be too hard to convict them of…these bruises."

"No," I rasped. Another lone tear escaped the brim of my eyes and I wiped it away before it had rolled too far. "I'll handle it." I said, but she seemed to want to protest. "Please…" I begged, my voice cracking slightly. "I'll handle everything."

She sighed, her warm breath ghosting over my cheeks. "…okay," she replied reluctant. "But this is it, Seth. I don't want to see this again, you hear? We're pressing charges if I do." I couldn't help but think of how my mother and Nurse Cullen seemed so much alike, to where they both used the same phrase, "you hear", nearly all the time. And how both of their tones were embraced by such warmth and endearment, it was like having two mothers.

I nodded and gave a weak smile, and Mom sighed again. "Leah isn't going to be too happy about this," she smiled, although I could tell she didn't want to. I knew she was just as tired of everything as Leah was, if not more. But I knew for me, she would smile and endure it, just like I had to. "Hopefully your father can calm her down enough that she won't be too upset at least…but I doubt it." She laughed. "That girl is like, a loose cannon when it comes to her little brother."

"I know." And she was.

"But it's because she loves you." She loved Sam too…maybe that's why she gets like that. Maybe it's only when people she loves hurt her. _I'm hurting her_. I thought, and another tear fell, but I didn't bother wiping it away.

"…I know…"

* * *

**Note: Not beta-ed…look here people. SOMEBODY BETA THIS! Grr!**

**Tell me what you think.**


	7. Threats and Promises

**Threats and Promises**

**Why did you change?**

**- _November 17th, autumn_**

**_9:35am_**

"Why is it that, lately you're always coming to first hour depressed and I'm the one to have to cheer you up?" Embry asked while he took the Geometry textbook from my hands, opting to carry it for me as we walked out the door and to his locker. "What goes on at your house after hours?"

I shook my head. "Nothing," I sulked. Although Embry had managed to slightly assuage my transparent brooding, I was still somewhat piqued with myself.

My Mom said that Leah would be upset when she told her the news that they _again_ weren't going to intercede on my situation. That was a lie. She wasn't upset. My sister was furious. She was like a dragon. I could see her pulling at her own hair, ready to rip it out, and again Dad had to take her outside. It made me feel worse than I already felt.

This morning she didn't say anything to me. Not when we were getting dressed and ready for school. Not during the car ride, and not when she put her things away in her locker that was two lockers away from mine. Not a word. I could hardly even hear her breath. But before we departed to go to our separate classes, she did, as a matter of fact, tell me: "I'm not going to get in your way, but I'm going to have to have a word with them…starting with Quil, and then I'll move down the ladder from there." Before I could reply said had walked off. She probably wouldn't have cared what I had to say anyways.

I sighed as I remembered her words verbatim. I just wanted things to go back to how they used to be, but living in Seattle, that didn't seem too likely to happen anytime soon. Would I want things go back to the way they were, with me heartbroken over Collin, and her tore to pieces over Sam and Emily? "Dude, stop sulking." Embry chided, opened his locker and discarded everything into it, "You're making me depressed." He finished, fishing out his Science book that he took from my locker before classes started.

"Sorry. I'm just…ugh! It's just a lot going on."

"Tell me all about it during fourth hour, okay? Mr. Williamson is boring anyways." I nodded to him, but thought that it would be better to talk about it during lunch, but I didn't argue with him. We reached the end of the hall. "Alright. I need to get to class, and so do you, so stop brooding and get going." He gave my ass a good smack, and laughed when I yelped, before he turned down the opposite vestibule.

I turned and headed to Vocal. _Damned vocal…damned Mr. Hanson._ I cursed to myself. "Damned jar-headed jockeys."

**X:~/~:X**

**_12:00pm_**

Second period went uneventful. Mr. Hanson didn't harass me like he usually did, but that was more so because I had decided to lip singing everything. I considered doing it every day, but then recalled that Clearwater's didn't quit. I can't sing, but that didn't mean I wouldn't try.

I met up with Embry afterwards and we went to lunch. Jane — Alec's twin sister — was practically throwing herself at him. She had the hugest crush on Embry. _If only she knew._ I had thought. She and her brother really were oblivious to what was completely apparent to everyone else, but I figured it wasn't much to dwindle on or think much of.

Actually, I hadn't been thinking about much of anything recently; not the anxiousness from the night before or the regular apprehension that conglomerated in my intestines from the thought of going to my next hour with Paul, not about the jocks catching me and their constant and usual harassment, or even Leah's odiousness. My mind had finally turned off and was silent for once, and I loved it.

"I see you're in a better mood." Embry noted as he walked me to my English class. I gave him a small smile and he grinned. "Good…I wouldn't want you to be depressed during our date today."

"Date? You said we wouldn't go if I told you…" I trailed assuming he caught the hint of my whining. He shrugged.

"I lied. We're still going." He said. "I'm just not as obvious as you are when I do it."

"I'm not—"

"Well!" He said loudly, cutting me off. "I'll see you next hour, bye." His laugh was irksome, and before I could retort he had already trudged off and cameflouged himself into the throng of students.

"Asshole." I muttered. I walked into the class, deciding to forget about it, and settled into my normal seat. The class was in its usual uproar as my classmates finished untold stories they had started during the lunch period or prior classes, spreading the new juicy gossip and rumors. Some just stood around idly, chitchatting as they waited for the bell to ring and signal that classes had commenced.

"Good afternoon, Seth." I looked up from my notebook that I had sprawled out to the page I had scribbled my homework on, and saw Mrs. Locke smiling perpetually. I smiled in response, unsure. "…I have a favor to ask of you," she continued. "It's about Paul…"

Surprisingly, as I stared slightly wide eyed at her, my eyes quivering meagerly, I noticed that, where fear would have originally taken over me, a feeling of curiosity had taken its place. It was daunting, to realize that I had procured such unbridled and unorthodox feelings. To realize that my fears had been overwhelmed and overthrown with a peculiar interest was somewhat alarming in itself.

But as it appeared, mentioning his name plausibly being some kind of taboo, Paul leisurely sauntered through the door, and the stunned silence didn't go unnoticed, everyone having gone soullessly still. _Is he actually here on time, or was I late_? Was my first thought, and I looked up to the pendulum clock hanging on the wall and sanctioned that he was indeed early.

"I'll talk to you about it a little later," she murmured, and I nodded. She turned her gaze on the inordinacy that had happened to have strolled promptly into the room at a timely hour. "It's nice of you to join us on time, Mr. Meraz." I overheard his vexed grunt as he stalked passed me like every other day. But today…today I didn't feel the need to elude his perception.

Don't get me wrong. I was still inhumanely terrified of those eyes, despite the fact that, somewhere, lurking deep inside of my being was a rather strange, but present — although pale — glimmer of interest that resided specifically for him. And the exultant glee that spread across Mrs. Locke's face was discernable.

The bell rang shortly after, and everyone scrambled to their respective seats. "Okay. Everyone can pass up yesterday's homework now." I tore the assignment from my notebook as she went from row to row collecting them, counting them before moving on to the next one.

She stopped at the row before mine, an expression of knowing bewilderment — why she decided to still feign confusion was beyond me — sketching the contours of her countenance. "I only counted four," she said. "But there are five of you in this row." The sound of her ruffling and wrinkling through the pages, irritated me for some unknown reasoning. "Paul, where is yours?"

"I wasn't gone do that shit." He spat grammatically incorrect — like most of his kind did — exasperating the obscenity, a glower clearly dementing his visage from the sickliness threading his tone, and just then all of my curiosity for him waned and I found myself reverting back to my usual timid and terrified self.

"What have I told you about your language? I am not one of your friends. I am you teacher." Mrs. Locke bit back. I looked up, noticing her leering at him, indignation strung in her tone as well.

"Look! You already pissed me off. Don't _make_ shit worse for yourself!" Paul _clearly_ held some newfound animosity towards her…or at least that's what I presumed and gathered from the more than usual resentment in his voice.

"Excuse me, but is that a threat?" She had really seemed taken aback by his remark, although I didn't know why. _Of course it's a fucking threat…look at him!_ I screamed to myself. I just wanted to close my eyes and rip my hair out. I mean, they've argued before, yes, and they've gotten louder than this before, without a doubt in a mind I knew they had, but what scared me most is when Paul tried to stifle a snarl that I was certain everyone had heard.

I was freaking mortified _for_ Mrs. Locke at this point. Everyone else had again gone deathly still, a pin could've dropped and been heard from up the hall had it not been for the two bellowing before us. I desperately wanted her to stop disputing with him, because the more she said, the more it felt like ants were crawling in my stomach, chills shivering through my body, butterflies fluttering inside me from my nervousness and fright.

"Listen here! You should be the one walking on eggshells Mr. Meraz. And I'd recommend that you mend that attitude of yours and clean up that lewd language, because I could make things _a lot_ worse than they already are for you." I don't know if it was courage that motivated her to debate and argue with him, or her own dumbfounded pride, but I did know that she needed to stop before things got too out of hand. "Those two games were a warning…don't _you_ make _me_ take it further than that."

Paul elicited another snarl, and he was beginning to terrify me on an entirely new level. "What the hell are you going to do?" He growled. "Expel me? So the fuck what? I don't give a damn what you do! I'm sick of this whack ass school shit anyways, so you do what the fuck you gotta do, alright!...And you betta watch how the fuck you talkin' to me, because shit ain't gettin' no worse for me."

_Oh. My. GOD!_ I was tripping out in my head. _So much bad grammar, _I thought nervously. I didn't know what the hell was happening. But I did dimly remember Paul saying something about Locke suspending him from his games before I passed out unto unconsciousness the day before. But I was ascertained that the horrific perplexity that coursed through my body was definitely written all over my face in the most hideously, ugly of expressions.

The atmosphere was strung by an air of quietness, the silence suspending for an elongated period, suspense suffocating as my eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Paul's hands were clawing at the edges of this desk as if he had wanted to tear it pieces — and I wouldn't have put it passed him if he could. Mrs. Locke just stared…impassively, and unprovoked.

I saw her shake her head pitifully, a warning smile — that looked absolutely psychotic — tugging at her lips. "Do the work, Paul…tonight. Or else I'll have no choice but to get you kicked off the team altogether for the rest of the season…along with the upcoming basketball season."

My eyes widened at her threat, my mouth hanging open, thinking to myself: "What the fuck?" The words were taken right out of my mouth as Paul yelled them, flipping his desk over and kicking his chair from under him when he shot up. The loud crashes that resounded caused my body to react involuntarily, and I jumped in my seat. My heart raced as I stiffly turned and stared into the eyes that promised Mrs. Locke a torturously, slow and painful demise.

She yelled something back but I didn't catch what she had said, my eyes glued on Paul thrashing around. Most of the period went by with the both of them screaming and bellowing obscenities at one another. Well, the curse words usually came from Paul, but I was certain that I heard Mrs. Locke throw in a few here and there. But Paul had completely lost his mind apparently, because he was flipping and kicking desks and chairs over — some that still had students in them — as he rioted through the room.

By the time class had ended — Paul having stormed out fifteen minutes beforehand — I endeavored to stand but my knees were still trembling. My heart rate had slowed to its natural pace, albeit, tremors was still existent inside of me. In the fifteen minutes that Paul had stormed out, nearly ripping the door from its hinges when he threw it open, Mrs. Locke and everyone else had seemed to have calmed down…a bit. The students were still gossiping about it as they left out the door, Mrs. Locke sitting at her desk tending to what I'm sure was a developing migraine as she massaged her temples.

"Can you believe him?" Kim asked all of a sudden. I had completely forgotten she existed the entire hour. But I really hoped she didn't expect me to answer that, because yes, I most certainly could believe that that just happened. Her ignorance with the ongoing situation between me and the jocks kept her airing on the side of naivety. Paul was psychotic, and she needed to get her head out of the clouds, look at the nearly 7 foot behemoth and understand that fact before she asked me ridiculous questions like that. "I mean really…_who _raises a child like _that_?"

I shrugged. "I don't know." I sighed. "But that was…something…" Next thing I saw was Kim shaking her head and approaching Mrs. Locke at her desk. My best bet was that she was offering her condolences and venting how frustratingly rude and vulgar Paul was, and probably telling her that she should just expel him like he wants to be and not worry herself with it. I mean, that was just a guess on my part, it's not like I could hear them from where I stood.

But I decided to pack my things up and leave after a short deliberation with myself to never think about Paul again. "Okay Mrs. Locke," I heard Kim say as she moved closer towards the door and stopped in front of my desk. I didn't say anything. I just stuffed my pencil in the coil of my notebook. I had a bag, but I always left it in my locker, and absently I wondered why it was I even owned a bag to begin with. "But I'm serious Mrs. Locke. You should just expel him and get him out of here, especially since he doesn't even _want_ to be here." I rolled my eyes at her predictability. _I knew it._

"I know, I know. But don't you have another class you need to be getting too?" Mrs. Locke smiled before waving her off. "You should get going so that you aren't late."

Kim smiled too, and clutched her notebook against bosom before nodding. "Okay." Then she turned to me. "I'll see you at practice, Seth." I grunted, and she happily bounded out the door.

"Seth," I heard Mrs. Locke call before I stumbled too far from my seat. She beckoned me over to her desk, and sighed heavily, sinking a little further into her chair before raking her fingers through her hair.

"Yes?"

"I had to speak with you…about Paul." She reminded, sighing the last part. "I'm just going to get straight to the point since you have a class that you have to get too. But…it's come to my attention—well I've actually been noticed…and I'm sure you have as well as everyone else…but Paul is seemingly having a lot of trouble doing the work that's assigned." _Oh so is that all he has trouble with_, I thought sardonically. _Try mental problems…anger management maybe_? "…and as modest as you are," I heard her saying, figuring I must have briefly spaced out, "you are the best student writer that I've ever had, and contemplating the tension between Paul and I, I doubt I could teach him anything at this point…especially considering the incident that occurred not even twenty minutes ago."

"Sooo…" I drawled, trailing. "What are you trying to say exactly?" I asked.

"…I want you to help him with the work, and sort of teach him…like a peer editor, or tutor." My mine whirled with thoughts, too many! Questions fluttered restlessly.

My mind was screaming at me to slap some sense into her. Had she just completely forgotten the incident she had alluded to not even five seconds ago? Did she forget the murderous intent that darkened and shone in his eyes, or the rage flaring around him like some demonic aura? Well, I sure as hell didn't. There was no _fucking_ way _in hell_ that I would do something so _stupid_!

"Are you sure he just _doesn't want_ to do the work, opposed to not know how?" I decided to ask instead of dragging my open hand across her face.

"I'm positive." She assured, and I had assumed she must have detected my evident uncertainty, and how utterly uncomfortable I was feeling at that moment. My eyes wouldn't stop wandering. "I mean, Seth, if you don't want to then I understand. He can be a lot to deal with." I wasn't going to do it. I couldn't. Even though that glimmer of curiosity seemed to be growing in intensity, pinch by pinch, it wasn't strong enough for me to risk my life like this. "…so don't even worry about it. I'll completely understand if you choose to decline."

"I don't…it's just…" I didn't know what I was trying to say. I mean, I knew what I was trying to say. I wanted to tell her no I couldn't do it, but I couldn't do that either. I didn't know how to feel about her request. Terrified was one of the obvious choice feelings, but my mind had been wheeling around Paul for hours yesterday. I couldn't get him out of my head. But even still, I don't think my curiosity had been sparked too much where I could have even thought it possible for me to do something like she was asking.

"I'm _really_ trying to help him, Seth," she sighed. "…it's just…I just don't know what to do with him anymore. Suspending him doesn't help, and I refuse to expel him. He's just…going through a lot I'm sure…too much than he can handle on his own, but he _won't_ accept help from me. So I'm really all out of ideas. Asking you to take time and help me with this was the, incase all fails, plan. " She paused and looked away before turning to look me directly in my eyes, her next words seeming effortlessly sincere. "But I don't give up on my students, no matter how stubborn they are…albeit…I never thought it would come the day where I had to threaten one in order to get them to cooperate…But regardless, I'm not going to give up on him. I'll help, even if the stress kills me."

I fell into the solemn determination harboring in her eyes, and that's when I knew that she was scarily sincere about her intentions, and the fact that she was willing to stress herself out ragged if it was for the benefit of one of her students…even if said student wasn't really supposed to be in her sophomore's English class. That's when I realized, and thought to myself: _This chick is insane_, as I noted the small smile across her lips.

"But," she sighed, her smile dissolving, "I really feel as though I'm at my wits-end with him." She droned. "I don't know what else to do…but I really shouldn't worry you with my —"

"No, I'll do it." I interrupted, and saw the shocked expression cross her countenance. I was even stunned at myself for a second before concluding and understanding that: she wanted to do what was right for him, even if he didn't want to help himself, and I respected her wishes a lot more than my own apprehension at that moment.

It was times like these that truly showed why and how Mrs. Locke was one of the greatest, if not best, teacher the world could have ever hoped to have, and because of that reason alone I wanted to help her, help him.

"Are you sure?" I nodded.

"Don't worry. I'll handle it." I reassured. _It feels like I've been telling people that a lot lately._

"Thank you." She smiled, which made a smile of my own surface. I moved towards the door, waving as I told her that it was the least I could do for all she's given and done for me.

"I promise…I'll handle everything," and with that, and a smile in place, I departed from her and made my way to Geography with Mr. Williamson. I was going to be late, but that was the furthest thought from my mind.

_I've got to tell Embry about all of this…_I stopped in front of the door once I reached my destination _…and maybe Leah too,_ but I decided against that idea. I didn't want to hurt or upset her any more than she already was…_maybe just Embry for now._ I opted, and knocked on the door. Mr. Williamson opened the door and my eyes began to feel heavy just by the sight of him.

_If I can stay awake long enough to tell him…_I yawned. _Damned boring class_…

* * *

**So what I've decided to do was stop writing only one chapter for this story at a time and posting it, but instead opted to write maybe two or three beforehand so I can have a good lead on things and how I want them to turn out. But we're getting closer to the Seth/Paul romance/drama bits. We just have to get passed the boring and tedious crap first. ;)**

**Note: Not beta-ed…to hell with it. I'll just write it and edit it myself. Grrr! ):[**

**But anyhow, tell me what you think.**


	8. Limitless

**Limitless**

**Why did you change?**

**- November 17th**

**_1:55pm_**

"…then once Mom told her not to get involved she got upset all over again." I yawned, endeavoring to fight the lassitude that every muscle in my body wanted to surrender to and just go to sleep. The room was once again shrouded in darkness whilst Mr. Williamson played with his projector. Embry, Alec and I decided to take three seats in the back of the class where we knew he wouldn't hear us, or even cared about; he never did care about the last two back rows of his class, as if they didn't even exist.

Alec was scribbling down notes, and I asked if I could copy them later, while Embry pulled his desk closer to mine, connecting the two. "I felt worse when Dad had to take her back outside and I heard her screaming even louder than before." I sighed, releasing an exasperated breath as I ran my hand down my face.

Embry hummed thoughtfully — or at least it sounded wistful. "Man," he breathed, and I noted him slouch back into his chair. "You really go through it, don't you?" I contemplated the inquiry for a moment before concluding that, yes, I really do go through it.

I was tormented and ridiculed daily, beaten if left vulnerable, and I was, without a doubt in my mind, going to give my sister high-blood pressure before she graduated, along with everyone else who cared about my wellbeing. And I was certain that Paul would eradicate me from existence once he found out that _I_ was to be his tutor.

I looked away from him, feeling slightly inadequate under his gaze as the realization hit me. The thought of Paul reminded me that I hadn't informed Embry of the firsthand news. "Yeah…I guess." I answered, turning back to him. "…but it's not just Leah I'm worried about." I quickly noted the flicker of concern reflecting in his eyes, and perceived him trying to pull himself up in his seat.

"What do you mean? Did something else happen, Seth?" I was shocked to hear the amount of sincere concern surmounting his voice.

"…nothing really…" I lingered, turning away from him again and I sighed. "I mean…well last hour Mrs. Locke asked me to be Paul's tutor." I looked at him to gauge his reaction, only to distinguish that he hadn't even been remotely fazed by the news.

"And?" He goaded. "What did you say?"

"I said yes." I replied simply. I heard him 'hmph' before turning his gaze onto Mr. Williamson, and then hearing him omit a yawn. I watched him, again endeavoring to gauge his reaction to my response, but he skillfully hid whatever thoughts that were going through his head. His half opened eyes and bleak expression revealed nothing, but then he turned back to me, and the question he asked next had my mind reeling. I couldn't have possibly prepared for the inquiry, not even if I knew it was coming days beforehand.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" He asked.

Deprecation overwhelmed me before I could even attempt to respond to the question. The feeling of uncertainty and inadequacy resurfacing like never before — like I had just taken a billiards stick to the gut and a glass bottle to the back of the head. My speech was impaired, and when I opened my mouth to speak I noticed that it just hung open as the lucid ability to vocalize had escaped me and was being choked by the growing apprehension in my chest.

For the first time since…Collin…I felt uncertain— of myself. I started questioning my actions. I started to question if it was wise of me to idly sit by and tolerate all the abuse directed towards me. I started second guessing my capabilities to endure the ridicule, the mockery and scornfulness of others, even though tolerance was the only emotion I taught myself to feel since moving to Seattle and transferring to ACHSA.

For the first time in a long while I began to feel that I couldn't handle these evils. I couldn't handle them…not all of them…not alone. It was too much. I could already feel my shoulders slumping over from having to carry the burden of everything on them, alone. My eyes felt like they were burning, bleeding, and subconsciously, the thought of blood reminded me of Emily, and Emily reminded me of Leah, and Leah reminded me of myself, and I reminded me…of…a loner? Yes, that's what I was. I was a loner.

I was alone because I thought I could handle coming out to the world and the discontent from others that come with it. I thought I could handle the harsh words and malicious beatings, but suffering alone only seemed to hurt those around me. I thought I could help my family and friends that were hurt by this discrimination and my melancholy by reassuring them that I would take care of everything and that they wouldn't have to hurt anymore. I failed at that mission. I failed by thinking I had to go through everything all on my own.

I diverted my eyes away from Embry, a tear sliding down my cheek…_and now…now I have to endure more afflictions with Paul._ I clenched my fists tight under my desk…_more disgusted glares, more ridicule, more beatings…more pain…all on my own._

"Seth?" I couldn't do it. I couldn't handle anymore. Not without falling to my knees from the pressure and praying and begging God that he took all of my suffering away. "Seth?" I heard him hiss my name, but I didn't answer. I just sat numbly. Eventually though, I did try to wipe my eyes with what little discretion my trembling body had left, soft sniffling escaping past my lips. "Seth." He sounded so close to me. "Are you okay?" He asked, and I noticed with the same sincere concern he exhibited earlier. "I'm sorry," he whispered into my ear, "I didn't mean to —"

I turned around and felt his lips pressed against my forehead from how close he was, and he moved back a little. I feigned a smile and closed my eyes so that he didn't see through me. _If I can't take it, then passing my problems off onto anyone else wouldn't do anything except hurt me and them even more than it already has…_I reasoned with myself before concluding that I had no other choice but to endure the hell that I brought upon myself. I threw myself into the fire without thinking, not expecting to get burned, let alone scorched.

"I'm fine. Don't worry…I can handle it." I choked out the words, and although I had my eyes closed I could tell that Embry hadn't put much distance between us from the way his breath ghosted across my face.

I opened my eyes and saw my reflection in his steely almond eyes from the dimly lit room, and another tear rolled down my face. I couldn't detect a hint of emotion in Embry's eyes, his face expressionless as he silently watched the tear slide down my cheek and fall from my chin. Then his eyes locked onto mine again.

I felt like glass under the resoluteness of his calculative stare. He sighed, a sigh that I perceived to be rejection before he moved back and settled into his desk. I thought I was going to completely shatter from the intensity in his eyes.

"…you just couldn't be more obvious, could you?" He yawned. "But okay, if you say so…I'm going to sleep. Wake me when class is over, would you?" I could only stare at him as he unwind in his chair and crossed his arms over the top of his desk before laying his head down and turning the opposite way. I sat and stared for five minutes, unblinking and in a trance. "…I'm here for you, Seth," I heard him mumble around his folded arms. "I'm here to help you whenever you need me," he paused and turned his head to me, "…but first you need to learn what your limits are. But until then you'll continue to think you have to face things on your own…You don't have too." He yawned again, turning back the opposite way once again. "I'm right here and ain't goin' nowhere."

After another five minutes went by of me staring at him, unblinkingly, his soft snores began to resonant in my ears after a while. I laid my head down, not expecting to fall asleep, and turned my head the opposed way of his…_I don't know my limits…?_ I thought. It was true. I didn't.

Then again, would I ever really know what my limits are if after so long I've tolerated the judgment and hatred of others in an absurd effort to just be myself? If after so long I taught myself to just bury all the criticism and acrimony the world threw at me in an attempt to crush me. I didn't know my limits, but I did know endurance. So the question is: had I finally endured enough? Had I finally met my limitations? Just what exactly are limits, and was this mine?

I pondered the inquires, questioning the capabilities of my own self-will, but after meticulously reflecting on everything that I had suffered through over the years, even things that didn't even pertain to my life in Seattle, but instead when I was on the Reservation. But after a careful analysis of myself, I finalized that limits…limits were nothing more than self-expectations and bars that are set for oneself, and this is not where I chose to set mine.

_My limits_, I convinced myself…_are limitless._

Clearwater's didn't give up, I had to reminded myself…_and we certainly don't break promises._

**X:~/~:X**

**_5:15pm_**

The rest of the day went with me egotistically influencing my demeanor by telling myself that I could overcome all of my problems, and that I refused to let anyone else be hindered with my burdens. But aside from my constant persuading, the remainder of the day went rather uneventful.

I had just walked out the doors of the gymnasium as I finished up practicing, Kim towing a couple of feet behind me. She was still going on and on, endlessly, about how Paul was this and that, and saying how much she couldn't believe him and other things I didn't care to hear. Although I was grateful that she brought up the subject of homework, which made me aware that I had completely forgotten to sketch down the assignment Locke had written on the board, having been so perplexed and astonished by Paul's outbursts. I had to go back.

The idea of asking Kim if I could copy down the assignment from her notebook came to mind almost instantly, but I reputed it just as fast as it had come. I couldn't stay around her another minute. Not when I had to hear her complaining with what Mrs. Locke should do about Paul. So, I used it as an advantage to escape her incessant protest.

Right as I was about to knock on the closed door to Mrs. Locke's room, it swung open and I jumped back. I met and locked eyes with Paul as he glared down at me for a second before pushing past me, Mrs. Locke trailing behind him as he stormed down the hall. I just stood to the side, staring after the both of them as they powerwalked down the vestibule, confused.

"…Paul…if something is wrong I want you to be able to talk to me about it." Mrs. Locke pleaded with him, evidence of her desperation heavily twined within her tone. Then I saw Paul, briskly, turn to face her, the glare he had given me darkening as he towered over her, glowering in what was obviously abhorrence.

"Would you leave me the fuck alone? Damn." He growled. "Why are you so interested in me? Just leave me the hell alone, _alright_?" Without another word, that my ears could overhear, I saw him curtly turn back and stomp down the hall, angrily stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"…Paul!" Mrs. Locke called after him, sighing her dread when he disregarded her entreaty and descended the staircase. I didn't move a muscle. I didn't even think of breathing as I watched Mrs. Locke stare after him forlornly before she turned back around. "…Seth?" She questioned as if I had just arrived and wasn't pushed out the way by her and Paul. "…Is everything okay?" She asked after noting my rigid mien.

"H-homework," I sputtered. "I forgot to…write it down." My words began to trail off into a whisper and I cleared my throat, and then swallowed. She, without a word, moved around me and back into her room, and I followed close behind. "Um…Mrs. Locke?"

"Yes?"

"What was…all that about?" She took a seat in her chair behind her desk, and she heaved a troubled sigh.

"It was nothing," she grounded.

"Oh…" My eyes wandered haphazardly around the room and then onto the blackboard, remembering my purpose. I asked to burrow some supplies, wrote down the assignment, folded the paper and shoved it into my pocket before I handed her materials back to her.

"Seth," she started, heaving another troubled sigh. "If you really don't want to tutor Paul, you don't have to. I don't think it would be fair to put that burden on you. You would have to do your work and help him with his _and_ deal with his temper…don't worry about it. I'll find another way."

"No, no, no." I said quickly, shaking my head. "I want to do it. I don't mind, really." I reassured. "And trust me. I can handle it." I smiled, and I realized for the first time, I actually meant it. Before, it was just a tactic of reassurance, but now, it felt more…sincere. I felt more committed to the words themselves. "I can handle, Paul. I promise."

I had managed to convince myself that I could achieve beyond my cumbersome qualms, but Mrs. Locke still looked unsure and apprehensive—perhaps in my capabilities that I just recently set onto a boundless capacity. "Trust me." I cooed. "I will take care of Paul, okay?"

She emitted yet another sigh. "Okay Seth, if you honestly believe you can and feel like I'm not putting too much pressure on you. But if the moment should come where you feel as though he's too much for you to handle, don't hesitate to inform me, you hear?" I smiled at the familiar phrase.

_She makes mother number three._ I thought and nodded to her. "Okay…well I should be going. My sister is outside waiting for me."

"Okay...tell her I said hello." I moved towards the door and waved before leaving. "Seth, if it gets to be too much, don't you hesitate!" I heard her yelled, and laughed softly to myself…_and_ _yet another with infinite worries. _I shook my head as I trod down the hallway and descended the stairs to my locker.

**X:~/~:X**

I opened my locker and grabbed my bag. "Hey." I closed my locker and turned and saw Jake standing in front of me with the usual benevolent smile he offered to me. I slung my bag over my shoulder.

"Hey." I replied as I strained my neck to look up at him before deciding to take a step back. He placed his hand on my shoulder all of a sudden, and I traced his arm down to the hand laying limply over my shoulder. I just stared, slightly confused.

"You ready to go?" He asked.

"Where?" He turned me around by my shoulder before throwing his arm over me and leading the way out to the back door of the school where he parked his truck—which was also a piece of crap car. It was beyond me why it was he chose to park in the back with the faculty members, but I guess it didn't really matter.

_I'll ask later._

"Leah didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" His eyes look down at me, as I looked up at him, his smile still in place before it abruptly morphed into a frightening grin.

"She got sent home early today." He laughed. I, for some reason or another, gasped and started to panic, my eyes growing wider.

"She didn't tell me! Why? What happened? Is she okay?"

"Calm down, calm down. She's fine." He chuckled, and I was starting to get irritated by it. I just wanted him to tell me what the hell happened with my sister and he wouldn't stop his ceaseless snickering. "Quil, on the other hand, is a different story." He grinned at me, and I'm guessing he detected my puzzlement, because he continued on. "Let's just say that he'll be seeing black and blue again for yet another week." This time his laughs were bellowed loudly, the power of it vibrating me as I pulled and pressed closer into his side, my face lost somewhere in his gigantic frame.

"Did…she really…again?" I mumbled, my voice being muffled with my face being buried in Jacob's gut, and I pushed against him, pulling myself free and gasped a much needed breath. _Gigantic bastard._ I glowered to myself as I practiced breathing and leaned against a random locker.

"That girl's got a damn good hook on her." I could tell that he wouldn't be able to conceal the grin spread across his face even if he wanted to, as though it were permanently etched into his features. "I was there when it happened…but don't worry. I stopped it before it got too out of hand." He laughed again.

I shook my head but didn't say anything else as we proceeded to walk through the building and to the back parking lot, and he went on and on about what happened, practically bragging to me. _Why would I care if his girlfriend had the strength of a man?_ But he continued to boast, long after we reached the car, and long after we flayed out of the lot and set out on dropping me off at home.

Finally, minutes later—which felt like hours—of him boasting he quieted and turned on the radio, surfed the stations, but nothing worthwhile for him was playing I suppose. I turned to look out the window. "Well at least I always have this." I heard him say, but could've cared less what else he had, and a few seconds later an all too familiar voice blared into my ears and I turned back so fast I nearly got whiplash.

My eyes widened. "Oh god…anything but this again," I breathed, listening to him as he blissfully sang along with the _SClub 7's_ song, "Never Had a Dream Come True" complete and utterly tactless of my distraught.

I was at my _limit_ with this song!

* * *

**Sooo...I have another chapter of this story done already, but I'm not going to post it just yet. Not until I have the next one that follows completed. This way I'm always one ahead. ^_^ Oh! and before I forget. I did a collaboration fic with _GoinnGaGa_ called Lifeguard on Duty (Emmett/Paul), so make sure you show some love and go check it out if you like that pair, and even if you don't, because you just might afterwards. Haha! (By the way! The fantastic lemon scene was all my partners doings! I give credit where credit is due) Oh! and I also have another fic called Where the Lines Overlap (Seth/Jacob)_, _so go check that one out too, okay?**

**And you see _GoinnGaGa..._I'm advertising too! lol. Oh, and go check out his stories if you haven't already. They're filled with awesome-ness!**

**But anyhow, tell me what's going through you're minds right now! lol! :D**


	9. Date Night

**Date Night**

**Why did you change?**

**_- November 17th _**

**_6:00pm_**

Jacob trailed behind me as we paved up the walkway to my house and I unlocked the door. "I'm back!" I shouted, and toed off my shoes by the front door. Jacob, in his haste, didn't bother taking off his shoes and brushed past me and moved towards the kitchen where a subtle humming was resounding. I followed after him, my bag still slung over my shoulder.

"Hey Mom." Jacob said vivaciously, pulling her into a delicate embrace as her hands were elbow deep in the sink. She laughed warmly, and smiled.

"Hi, how are you Jake?" She turned her head so he could place a kiss on her cheek.

"I'm good…just came in to see how you and Dad were doing, and to check in on my little lioness." My Mom laughed, and I gagged, lewd images immediately coming to mind at the nickname.

"Isn't that sweet of you? But her father managed to calm her down when he got back from his meeting at work, but you know how she can sometimes get." Jake nodded. I didn't think anyone that came into contact with Leah was ignorant on "how she can sometimes get". It was scarily obvious, but if anyone could handle it, it was Jacob.

"Yeah." He smiled. "But it's just one of the many things that make her special to me." I noticed a while ago that Jake always knew how to make Mom smile, and I think that's what got him into the family—and the fact that he protected me and my sister. But since the first day we moved to Seattle, it was painstakingly clear that Mom had a soft spot for him, an extremely soft spot that ran down to the core of her very soul. As far as she was concerned, he was her child…who just so happened to be dating her daughter.

Weird.

But she loved him. Sometimes, I would think, more than me. When Jacob first introduced himself to our parents, Mom adored him and thought he was the "cutest little boy" she ever saw. Usually parents put on some kind of façade to challenge the boys that were dating their daughters—Dad did at least, even if it was for only three days—but Mom…I sighed thinking about it as I watched the two interact, and a smile curved my lips. _Mom was a lost cause from the beginning, _I laughed inwardly.

Jacob brushed past me. "Are you staying for dinner?" Mom asked him before he disappeared up the stairs. He stopped and stared—I guess contemplating.

"Sure, why not?" He replied predictably, and I rolled my eyes. Of course he was staying. He was huge, and I doubted he would pass up a free meal, especially if it was coming from my mother, since he always goes on and on about how good this is and how good that is every time she makes him a plate of anything. I believe Leah gets jealous, because when she cooks for him…well, there was nothing good about anything she made—not unless she was angry and decided to cook. Then and only then was her food edible for anyone to eat.

"Hi sweetie. How was school?" I heard Mom ask from behind me as I watched Jacob skip up the stairs. I turned back to her.

"_Oh_! So I exist now that Jake's gone, right?" I teased, smiling. I could never pass up an opportunity to tease her, because I always loved the light shade of pink that crossed over her nose anytime anyone called her out on the subject pertaining to Jacob. I couldn't help but grin at her flustered face. "School was fine."

"There weren't any more incidents, were there?" I shook my head.

"No there weren't." I turned on my heels. "I'm about to go start on my homework."

"Okay. But dinner should be ready in a little bit. I'll call you when it's done." I nodded and stalked off up the steps and to the confines of my dark room. I heaved a wearisome sigh as I closed the door behind me and dropped my bag carelessly against the side of my work desk, and I dug into my pocket and pulled out the paper I had written my homework on and placed it atop the desk. Sluggishly I plodded over to my bed and fell to pieces, face first.

I heaved another frustrated sigh, my face buried in the mattress of my nearly naked mattress as I had neglected making it earlier. I was so tired, practically worn out completely. I contemplated just lying there and falling asleep, deciding that I could finish my homework when I woke up.

_Yeah…I'm sure it isn't that hard._ I yawned, and crawled on my hands and knees to the head of the bed. I buckled and collapsed again when I found my pillow, and easily within minutes I was swaying between sleep and the thoughts that still raged in my mind. Paul was definitely not forgotten, although I had persuaded myself that I could handle him, the apprehension still lingered inside of me. The only thing that could get me out of tutoring him was if he did the assignment ascribed. _Ugh…what are the odds in that…two billion to zero…I'm pretty much screwed on those odds…_

As I continued to deliberate with myself over other miscellaneous things, sooner than later, I realized that I had fallen asleep; sheets threw haphazardly over my body while I still had my uniform on and all.

**X:~/~:X**

My nap lasted all of about forty-five minutes, and then Mom called everyone down for dinner. We were all around the table, Jacob taking Leah's space across from me, who refused to join us. No one was worried too much though. She never ate when she was upset, and usually just stayed to herself in her room. It sometimes took hours for her to calm herself down—days even, but that was rarely ever the case. Only with Sam had it taken nearly a week to get her to eat something and even longer for her rage to ebb.

But that was neither here nor there, because this was something she was use to going through—me getting beat up that is—but I berated myself constantly for being the reason she had to suffer and starve herself, but I knew she would get over it eventually, as everyone else would.

"…I just wish she would at least eat something," Mom complained to Dad, whose argument was to just let her be for now and settle things with herself.

"She's eighteen." Dad stated. "She knows how to come down the steps and grab something from the fridge if she's hungry…just let her simmer down." Jake and I just watched, and silently, I'm ashamed to say, I believed we were both slightly amused by them.

"Eighteen or not, it isn't healthy for her not to eat just because she's upset." Mom retorted, and Dad sighed. He knew from the beginning that it was a lost cause to try and protest against her. He would always fail, _always_! But that never stopped him from trying: "Clearwater's never gave up", was his motto and I'm proud to say I learned that from him.

"Oh my god!" Jake moaned and I turned to look at him, a bit disgusted when he started talking with his mouth full. "Ma, this mac and cheese is delicious." He said pointing to it with his fork before stabbing at it again. My brows furrowed. I was slightly eerie for him as he threw the food into his mouth hastily, and grabbed the glass of water, guzzling it thirstily until it was almost empty before again attacking the mac and cheese.

Mom giggled. "Thank you, Jake. At least someone knows how make me feel appreciated after slaving in the kitchen for nearly two hours." She denounced as he stared at me and Dad. Dad rolled his eyes and I lowered my head before leering at Jacob.

"Suck up." I muttered, and he grinned.

"But slow down before you choke yourself," she warned. Then the house phone rang, and I went to answer it after volunteering.

"I can't…it's so good." I heard Jake moaned, and I rolled my eyes and picked up the phone on the kitchen wall.

"Hello?" I start, and immediately I hear music blaring in the background, pulsing in my ears. I barely hear the person when they asked for me. "Speaking."

"Oh, Seth? It's Embry man."

"Embry?" I question and instantly I recognized the voice. "Oh hey, what's up? It's been a while since you called the house phone." I teased.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," he disregards. "But hey, are you ready?" My brows furrow at the inquiry.

"Ready for what?" I heard him laugh at a remark someone made that was nearly inaudible to me from the boisterous music beating into my skull before he finally answered.

"Man, we're going out, remember?" A glare promptly formed across my face.

"We had a deal. I'm not going." I argued, and was tempted to end the conversation there, but then I perceived Embry's muffled whimper on the other line. "…Em, I already told you I wasn't going."

"I don't remember you saying that," he sighed. "I wished you would've reminded me or something, because now we're on our way there."

"We? Who is 'we'?"

"Uhh…Me, Jasper and Edward, duh. We're riding in Jasper's car and if you're not coming then someone has to give him gas money." He enlightened, but it felt more so like a bribe.

"No, don't worry about it." I heard a familiar, but distant, thick, southern accent say in the background. "If he isn't coming then it can just be the three of us." Embry growled in my ear.

"No! He's coming." Embry claimed, and I looked at the phone with a "what the fuck" face at his statement. I don't know what in his right mind made him think he was talking about me. "Get ready, Seth. We'll be there in a little bit."

"What? Embry, I'm not—"

"Please!"

_Oh god! He's begging…Damn my incessant need to please people._ I thought irately.

"…please, Seth! You know how long I've waited for this. Don't act like that…" I contemplated, and during my deliberation I perceived Jasper talking to Edward, his south accent sounding as though the two had just gotten into a fight, the very tone of his voice was undomesticated, belittling and venomous. _What the hell happened between them_? Then I figured it was wise that I didn't go. "Seth?...Are you still there?"

"Uh…yeah."

"So…you're going right?" I heaved a deep sigh. I couldn't possibly say "no" when he talked in that innocent and pleading voice he did whenever he really wanted something.

"Fine…I'll go." He hadn't said a word, but an entirely new sensation flowed through me, and I could feel the smile that parted his lips and showed every single tooth in his mouth.

"Good! We should be there in about fifteen or twenty minutes, be ready." I smiled from the cheeriness his tone held, and I rolled my eyes at him, knowing he couldn't discern the action.

"Yeah, yeah." I said, and just as I was about to hung up I overheard Jasper's voice in the background again, asking Embry, in a less crucial tone, if I was coming and Embry reply that I was.

"Wonderful." I flinched slightly as I detected the growl laced in the word, even over the blaring music, and I just hung up. _Okay…him and Edward must've really gone through it_. I pushed my brows up with my forehead and sighed a third time before stalking back into the dining room with everyone and taking my seat.

It wasn't until I heard Mom say to Jacob, "Oh! Billy must be really proud to have you as a son. I know I do!...He knows where you are, right?" that I realized I hadn't told either of my parents that I was going out. I waited until Jacob answered before butting in.

"Mom," I stuttered when she gave me her attention. "Umm…can I go out tonight?" I watched as her face twisted abruptly, and everyone went silent. "…with Embry," I added, knowing that she approved of him. Not nearly as much as Jacob, but he did call her mom too—well he called every person's mother he knew mom.

"…When?" I pushed the remnants of food on my plate with my fork, my eyes glued to the contents over the platter.

"…Twenty minutes." I say shyly.

"Twenty minutes?" I heard Dad interject, and my eyes darted to him. "And when were you planning on telling us? When you _left_?"

"No." I replied.

"It's a school night," he went on. "In the _Fall_, and you want to go out at seven o'clock at night? In the dark?"

"Dad it's Wednesday!" I protested. "Half of the week is over with anyways." My eyes widened slightly, and my face softened to show my innocent intentions.

"Exactly! It's Wednesday." He stated and looked to his wife. "When did kids start going out on Wednesday's? What happened to Friday nights, or Saturday's…the weekend?" He turned back to me. "Where are you two going?"

I shrugged, which was probably the wrong move because his face practically told me the answer to my earlier question. "The movies, probably." I tried to hurriedly correct.

"How are you getting there?" I turned to Mom when she asked the question. "I don't like the idea of you two being out there alone. Is anyone else going?" I nodded.

"Yes. Jasper and Edward."

"Jasper and Edward!" Jacob gasped, nearly choking over the water he had been sipping on.

"You know them?" Dad asked him and I saw as he nodded to him. "Who are they? What kind of people are they?" I noted Jacob's face contort into an expression I wasn't entirely sure on how to describe as he thought it over.

"Well…they're both seniors, and I have a class with Edward. He's okay I guess. We don't really talk much, but my friend Bella says he's cool though." He shrugged then. "He's quiet for the most part, and doesn't really make himself known to people when he doesn't have to, but aside from that…I don't really know."

"And this Jasper kid?" Dad interrogated, and again I watched Jacob's countenance twist into an unreadable expression.

"I don't know much about him at all...except him and Edward are together, and…well he's an actor…a good one I suppose. He has a lot of honors and awards to prove that…oh! and I talked to him once. He seems formal at least." Jacob took the last bits of food from his fork into his mouth, and continued to talk around the sustenance. "I think they're both pretty good guys…never hear about either of them starting any trouble."

"Well if you say so Jake. I trust you." I had the right mind to roll my eyes at my mother's comment, but I didn't because I still hadn't gotten an answer. "I don't mind you going, just be back here by ten." I scrunched my face. I honestly didn't believe that was enough time considering Embry was possibly going to try and milk this experience for all it was worth and more.

"Eleven-thirty." I suggested.

"Don't negotiate with your mother." Dad glowered. I lowered my eyes to the table.

"Ten-thirty." I proposed, staring at Mom again, and I heard Dad in my other ear saying, "What the…what did I just say?" as I disregarded him and gave my mother my undivided attention. She shrugged before lifting her fork to her mouth.

"That's fine." I grinned at my success, and watched as she took the food from the tip of her fork into her cavern, and I perceived Dad snarl.

"Sue, don't baby the boy!" He argued, and Mom grimaced.

"Oh don't you start with me about babying him, Harry!" She began, leering at him from across the table. "Weren't you the one who was going to buy him a car just because he asked for it?"

"That was three years ago, _god_! Let it go, woman." He grounded and stabbed at the remnants across his plate.

"He was _twelve_." She began to protest. I smiled. _And the debate begins yet again for another night. _I laughed to myself. They were so typical, but hilarious. I looked across the table at Jake who was smiling as well, undoubtedly just as amused as I was. "What in your right mind did you think he was going to do with a car at twelve years old?"

"He's a boy! He's supposed to like cars at some point in his life…and how do you know, maybe I was teaching him to drive beforehand." I gasped as I realized the words that came out of his mouth, and I think he realized them too, because he stilled immediately and his eyes widened a little. _That was so the wrong move to make Dad._

"You said what?" Shivers raced down my spine at Mom's ominous tone, and slowly, hesitantly with shocked eyes so wide I craned my head to the side to look at her. Her glare had darkened and she twirled her fork between her fingers threateningly as she played with the inside of her cheek with her tongue. "You let…_my_ _baby…_behind the wheel of a _car_ _before he was even twelve year's old_!" She was more so shouting than asking the question.

"Umm…I think I should be getting home." Jacob said, and I could tell from the look in his eyes that my mother's shimmering rage was giving him a whole new perspective of her. Oh no! She wasn't just sugar, and spice and everything nice. This woman could get crazy sometimes when taken to a certain point. Jacob reluctantly pushed his chair back and stood up. "Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Clearwater…T-tell Leah I said bye, would you?" He was looking at me and I nodded stiffly.

"I think I'll go with you." Dad said quickly, his eyes quivering as he looked in the eyes of his fuming wife. "It's been a while seen I checked in on your old man. I think we're long overdue for a reunion." He moved swiftly out his chair and around the table, putting as much space between him and Mom as possible before he grabbed his coat and keys and was out the door.

Dad left out the door before Jake even got the chance to make it halfway. He wouldn't be going anywhere if Jake didn't move his car out of the driveway, so either way he was screwed if she decided to go after him. But I think I was worse off, because I was the only one left at the table, and I was willing to get the hell out of there by any means necessary.

"Um…" I sputtered and bit my bottom lips as I stared at her, seething. Then her dark eyes fell onto me, and I ran. I ran as fast as I could up the stairs.

"Where is everybody going!" I heard her shouting, angrily. "This is supposed to be a family dinner. _I am not the only one in this family_!" I decided that my best chance at survival at this rate was to ignore her wrath—which I was certain would unleash again the moment Dad came back. But my best bet was to just ignore her and get ready for this hell that was about to ensue in less than twenty minutes.

As I rummaged through my dresser drawers for some decent clothes my eyes land upon the discarded piece of paper my assignment was written on. _Hmm…I never did get around to doing that assignment._ I shrugged it off. _I'll get to it when I come back…I'm sure it's not that hard_. I thought and turned back to my search before emerging with a pair of black skinny jeans and a simple, tight-fitted black V-neck shirt that read: "Bite", on the front, and "Me", on the back in purple, and an exclamation point after "Me".

I chuckled to myself. _Embry is going to have a field day with this one_. I smiled as I turned the shirt around in display. I didn't enjoy the lewd remarks he made towards me sometimes, but I'll admit that I loved to see him smile, which is why I threw the shirt and pants on the edge of the bed, opting to freshen up a bit before squeezing into the skintight apparels.

I walk over to the door, and with one last look at the suffocating garments, I think to myself, _He better be lucky I love him enough to see him happy_, before I opened and closed the door behind me.

* * *

**OMG! Finally! After this the story really begins! The next chapter is a lot longer than the ones I've posted so far. And I really want you all to review the next chapter to let me know how I expressed everyone. But we'll worry about that when I post it…after writing the chapter after it. ^_^ I'll remind you.**

**But tell me what you think! **


	10. Conflicting Interests

**Conflicting Interests**

**Why did you change?**

**_- November 17th _**

**_7:15pm_**

I lied in my room—in the dark. The light was rarely ever turned on—by me anyways.

I had finished dressing a short while ago, the skinny jeans squeezing tightly around my legs and against my groin, but I ignored it as I lied nonchalantly across my bed, staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling with my hands behind my head. I turned my head and looked at the clock on my nightstand. They were late.

I didn't dwell on it too much, because if luck was on my side then they wouldn't come at all, but unfortunately I was well aware that my luck this week—and previous weeks—was nowhere near on my side. It was against me like everything else. I heaved an enervated sigh and shot up straight on the edge of the bed, my shoulders slouched and my back hunched over, and I yawned.

_It's been a long day._ I groaned. The day hadn't exactly been physically exhausting as it had been mentally _over-_stimulating, and that exhaustion seemed a lot worse than physical fatigue. My mind had been racing all day. Normally, during practice my thoughts would settle when I found my "center", but all through practice I wasn't able to attain said "center" because my brain wouldn't cease its endless reeling. I stumbled and fell more than usual. It was frustrating.

I stood on my feet, deducing that I should probably go and find some shoes that matched the snug outfit I chose for Embry's pleasure. He would be pissed that he could only see and not touch, but I didn't care. _He should be happy I went this far_. I moved over to my closet and slid it open, my eyes scanning over the floor littered with the different selections of footwear.

Yes, I indeed was spoiled. But I didn't admit it. I liked to believe that I earned everything I had because I worked hard for it; good grades, honor roll, scholarships, etc. I grabbed a pair of simple black Chuck Taylors that had a purple line running around the rim, deciding that it went well enough with my shirt. I easily slipped my feet into them because they didn't have shoelaces, and I stuffed the hem of my jeans around the tongue of each shoe.

After I finished stuffing my shoes I figured I'd go wait for Embry's inevitable arrival downstairs in the living room, and I sauntered towards the door, but stopped when I discerned the small slip of paper my assignment was written sloppily on, lying helplessly atop my work desk. I yawned. _I'll get to it later_, I resolved with myself before pulling open the drawer to the desk and blindly groping for my array of wristbands, and slipped a few on my right wrist, concealing the fading bruise there before turning back and leaving the room.

As I walked down the steps I halted midway. I turn back and look over the banister at Leah's door, which was still shut. I couldn't help but think that she was still angry because of me, and that her rage was meant for me. And I couldn't shake the feeling, despite Dad's orders to leave her be, that I needed to say something; reassure her that everything would be fine, and so I stalked back up the stairs and to her door, and timidly, I knocked.

"What is it?" She bit out not even a second later.

"Can I come in?" I asked shyly. Perhaps attempting to placate her was a bad idea.

There was a short silence until I heard her say, "C'mon," and I opened the door. My senses were immediately filled with the all too familiar scent that was my sister; lavender and vanilla. I noted her laying back on her bed, legs crossed and her face buried on the inside pages of a fashion magazine with one earphone in her ear while the other lay carelessly on the bed. "What is it?" Her tone was softer than before.

I only stood there, staring at her. I didn't know what to say. I didn't exactly go in with a game plan, only impulsiveness. _Maybe I should…_I just didn't want her to be mad at me anymore. She moved her magazine, her eyes falling onto me, and her brows furrowed. "Seth? Are you okay?"

"I…" I lowered my eyes to my feet. "I-I don't want you to be mad at me…anymore." I said nervously, and I began to fiddle with my fingers, fidgeting as I spoke what I was feeling. "I didn't mean to make you upset. I just thought—"

"What are you talking about?" She inquired quizzically, and my eyes met hers, noting the furrow of her brows deepen with her confusion. "Seth, I'm not mad at you…why would you think that?"

"Because…you haven't said anything to me all day…and…" I trailed, sighing. "And you only do that when you're really mad…at anybody." I watched as her face fixed to a countenance of understanding, and she sat up in her bed, closed her book and ripped the earpiece for her head.

She gestured me over and stiffly I walked over and sat down on the bed next to her. "No. I wasn't mad at you." She stated simply, and sighed heavily before turning to look me directly in the eyes. "I was upset at what happened, and what seems to keep happening." My eyes began to wander, and I mindlessly played with my fingers in my lap. "I'm pissed that Mom and Dad aren't doing anything about it, as if everything is okay and nothing is happening to you. That's beginning to _really_ piss me off, and I think I'm going to have to tell them a little about themselves on that matter."

"Oh…" I said. Mainly because it was the only thing I could say. But then I suddenly felt her arms wrap around me and myself being pressed into her bosom as she embraced me tightly.

"I don't have a reason to be mad at you." She whispered into my ear. "It's not like your beating your own self up because of who you are…and I'm glad you're not, because there are so many people that are tearing themselves down because they can't stand to look at themselves in the mirror." I hummed against her chest, my arms limply hanging at my sides. "But I'm not mad…not with you anyways."

"I don't want you to be mad at all." I muffled against her breast, and she released me, and our eyes met again. "Mom only told you not to get involved because I asked her to."

"I know." She replied. "But Seth, what are you trying to prove to yourself?...That you can take on the whole world all on your own?" I looked away. I wasn't entirely sure what I was trying to prove, but I knew I couldn't possibly do what she was implying. "That's impossible. No one can survive in this world by themselves, no matter how much they try to. Everyone needs someone…" I looked up. "…I don't want you to feel like you're alone, because you're not…you'll always have me. And if you feel like the entire world is against you, well…then the entire world will have to be against the both of us, because I refuse to let you handle anything else on your own."

My eyes started burning as they brimmed with tears, because in that moment I felt a familiar connection with my sister that I hadn't felt since we moved to Seattle. It was a nostalgic sensation, and I wanted nothing more than to have it and hold on to it, forever. "Do you understand me?" I nodded to her. "And if that means that I have to give every last one of those bastards a black eye and you know I will, then that's what I'll do, got it?" I nodded again, and I couldn't restrain myself from throwing my arms around her and crushing myself against her body.

Her arms wrapped around me as well, and she pressed me harder against her. My tears started falling before I even realized it, but I allowed them to. I didn't care. This moment felt so forlorn. Leah was my shoulder to cry on. She was my rock, and God knew I would need her, and I was convinced that was why He gave her to me. I was grateful that she was a part of my life. I was always grateful for her. If there was no one else who understood me, she did, and I was certain that she realized long before I had, the inner battle that I was fighting in order to endure all that I had been burdened with in my life. She understood me before I even understood what was going on with me.

She pulled away from me, and for a second I was tempted to cling onto her tighter, but instead I let her go. Her fingers brushed against my cheeks, wiping away my tears. "You know I love you, Seth." I nodded even though it wasn't a question. "So I'm going to help you regardless if you ask me to or not…okay?" I nodded again. "…okay," and she pulled me to her again.

I was about to say something, but as soon as I had begun I heard Mom call for me, and that's when I remembered Embry. I hesitantly pulled away from her. I rose onto my feet and turned back to her, noting that she was staring at me up and down. "You goin' somewhere?" Her brows quirked speculatively.

"Yeah," I rasped and cleared my throat. I seized the sniffles that escaped me as I quickly recollected myself, releasing a wispy sigh. "…with Embry…" I continued. "It's a date…I think." My eyes didn't miss—or rather _couldn't_ possibly have missed the grin that spread across her face. She and Jacob had been around each other for far too long, because it reminded me of his face devouring grins.

"Finally!" She exulted. "I've wanted you two to get together for the longest." She laughed.

"N-no. We're still just friends." I hastily corrected, and she shook her head.

"I don't know about that…judging from your outfit I'd say someone likes little Embry…by the end of the night I think circumstances might change between you two." She teased, and winked at me. I felt my face heat up, and I was sure I was blushing. "Aww, look at you…blushing." She laughed again. "Well you should be going…I don't want to make you late for your date."

I scoffed. "He's already late." I heard her gasp and noted her grin broadened.

"Oh so he's coming to pick _you_ up? Look… at…_ you!..._being a hot commodity." My blush deepened, and she continued to tease me, and within a few seconds I was sure that the blush across my face had spread over my entire body. "That's fancy little bro…real fancy…But speaking about dates, where is my man? Is he still eating?" She scoffed. "…pig."

"Oh yeah…he said bye." Her grin immediately dissolved from her face and I moved towards the door.

"Bye?...You mean to tell me that he's gone?...Is he gone, Seth?" She fumed. "He could've at least came and told me…oh, he's getting hell tomorrow. He and Quil are going to look like twins when I get done with him." I debated on telling her the message that Mrs. Locke had also asked me to relay to her, but arbitrating from her fiery, I decided against the thought. _She can tell her hi another time_. I told myself and made my escape, skipping down the stairs.

I walked into the living room and saw Embry standing in the middle of the room, examining the photographs atop the mantle, and I cleared my throat to get his attention. "You ready?" He asked when he turned around. I nodded.

"Are you leaving, sweetheart?" I heard Mom shout from the kitchen, assumingly overhearing Embry's question, and absently I thought she had the ears of some inhumane creature. But I answered anyways.

"Yeah." I shouted back, and discerned Embry's eyes running up and down my body, ogling. "Are you ready?" His head shot up, and I smiled before turning around, and walked towards the door when he nodded. "Let's go and get this over with then." He chuckled and jogged in front of me, courteously opening the door for me.

"Stop acting so sour. At least try to enjoy it…who knows when we'll be able to do this again." He grinned, and I grunted.

"I do…never," and he rolled his eyes. "I'm gone, Mom." I shouted back into the house and I thought I heard her say something about ten-thirty and something else, but I was already out the door. I walked over to Jasper's amnesty colored Lincoln, and I stared awestricken at the vehicle. It was really nice…and different.

"Seth." Edward greeted curtly as I climbed into the backseat with Embry.

"Hi." I said, and looked over to Jasper before giving him the same greeting, but he only grunted, vexed. _Okay then…he must still be upset_. I thought, but didn't press it, because unlike with Leah, I didn't feel obligated to alleviate whatever was upsetting him. _I'll just stay out of his way..._I reasoned, and felt Embry's arm fall around my shoulder, but I didn't say anything as we pulled out of the driveway and down the street.

Then I realized something. _I have no idea where we're going._ But I figured it wasn't anywhere out of the city, so I was fine. I knew how to find my way back home if I got lost, especially since I had to take the bus for an entire year, _everywhere_! _I'll just try to enjoy this time out with Embry_. It was a rare occasion if we ever went out…together anyways. I sighed as I leaned into the comfort of his side.

I didn't think much of it, but I thought I had heard a soft growl emanate from somewhere, but I left it alone, closed my eyes, and relaxed.

**X:~/~:X**

We were at the movies—as I had expected. I thought it to be a bit cliché, but I didn't complain. I wasn't paying. _Wait…am I paying for myself_? I thought. I didn't have any money on me at all, and then I wondered: if I had gotten lost, how would I get home without any money? I was screwed. _I should've probably asked for more details about this beforehand_.

"Umm…Embry." I whispered and he leaned his head down to me, and hummed. "I don't have to pay for this, do I?" He stood up straight, smiling.

"Not unless you want to." He said, and I felt relieved. _Oh thank god._ "I was planning on paying for the both of us. Why?" I whispered into his ear again, explaining that I didn't bring any money, and he laughed. "Don't worry about it. I got it."

"Okay," Jasper began once he made his way back over to us from the board that listed all of the current movies playing and the times. I turned to him. "Well they only have two good movies out, and both are playing in about thirty minutes. It's either between that," he pointed to a laminated poster that was behind us and we all followed the digit.

I realized that my eyes began quivering immediately in their sockets when they perceived the crimson eyes of a satanic looking creature, whose skin was grey and splintered like cement, with the face of a decrepit…_something_ I couldn't even explain. It had fangs as long and as sharp as daggers, and claws nearly as long as its fangs. In one hand it held the head of a man, while the other looked as though it were dragging the rest of his body. _Hell no!_ I screamed to myself. "Oh god no, not that one!" I expressed hastily, shouting in Embry's ear.

I never was one for horror movies. I would have nightmares and imagine that the monsters would be lurking around every corner, and would attack when it was shrouded in complete darkness—like in my room, which was always dark. Horror movies terrified and tortured my very soul. I couldn't be a victim of that. Not tonight, or any other night.

I heard Embry laugh on the side of me, but he said nothing. "…or that one," and again we followed Jasper's finger to another laminated poster. It looked like an action movie with the way a man and woman stood back-to-back with small pistols in their hands and a dramatic explosion in the background that billowed smoke and dust into the air in a reddish-greyish-black mushroom.

_I can live through this one._ I told myself. "I choose this one." I said, and looked up at Embry, smiling. I noted him smiling down at me as well.

"Well I choose that one." He said and pointed back at the spawn of Satan, and I cringed noticeably as my eyes fell onto the picture again. "What's wrong?" He whispered into my ear, and even if I wasn't able to see his face, the smirk on it would've been obvious to detect. "…scared?"

"No," I whined. "I don't want to see that one. You know I can't—"

"I know," he grinned. "That's exactly why I want to go see it. You're going to be so scared, and it's going to be hilarious." He laughed.

"Embry," I moaned, desperately wanting to have a temper tantrum.

"Who's paying?" He asked rhetorically, and I was slightly taken aback as my breath caught in my chest. Then I glowered at him.

"That's not fair." I argued, my glare only darkening when he shrugged me off.

"Well I agree with, Seth. I don't particularly care much for horror films myself." I heard Edward's smooth, honey-like voice interject, and I turned to him. I watched as he moved closer to Jasper and latched onto his arm before intertwining their fingers together, and I noted the way Jasper's eyes tinted somberly and how he narrowed his eyes at him. I gasped.

_Whoa._ I scrunched my face, not believing the look Jasper was giving him, but it was hard to deny that it was indeed engraved upon the contours of his face. I turned back to Embry who hadn't even noticed as he was still entranced by the demonic poster. Then I saw Jasper jerk away from Edward's embrace in my peripheral. _I should definitely stay out of his way…something major must've happened between them._

"Well I agree with Embry." Jasper exulted, causing him and me to turn around. Embry smiled at the upperclassmen. "How about this," the actor preceded, a smile curving his lips as he stared at who was supposed to be my date. Embry's eyes reverted back to the horrific image. "How about _we_ go see our movie and you two go see yours." He suggested, his eyes sternly trained on Embry's back.

I weighed that option, and was completely okay with it, but then Edward went and ruined it by intervening with, "No. I don't mind seeing it with you…as long as you're there." He cooed, and my mouth hung open from his betrayal.

_You bastard._ Again I noticed Jasper's foul glare as he stared down at him from his peripheral, but I chose to ignore it. "I guess it's decided then," Embry said, turning around to face us. Then he moved towards me and pulled me closer to him. "Don't worry. You can sit in my lap if you need too." He whispered the words sensually into my ear, but I was sure the other two heard the indicative remark, and I felt a shiver race down my spine.

I sighed into his chest. _So much for trying to enjoy myself._ I went lax against his muscled biceps that wrapped around me, and I closed my eyes again. I had decided to just keep my eyes closed until we left this forsaken and condemned home of Satan's…_evil theatre. Who shows such a movie?_

I could've sworn though, that I heard a familiarly soft growl emanate into the air, but again I didn't indulge in it, passing it off as early jitters for the inevitable Hell that was about to murder my innocence, and haunt my very soul like a spiritual plague.

I murmured a prayer, and then we set out to buy the tickets of damnation.

**X:~/~:X**

My whole body was trembling, tremors shuddering through me like reckless waves as we walked through the dark parking lot, looking for Jasper's Lincoln. My eyes had gone peculiarly wide at some point that I wasn't sure of, and I was certain after a while that I wasn't blinking. My mind had gone into a numb trance.

I didn't even know I was walking on my own until I felt Embry—laughing as he did such—unclenched my fingers from his shirt, which were curled into a tight fist as I held on for dear life. I had buried my face into his chest when one of the demons decapitated a woman and small child, feasting on their dog in the subsequent scene.

My legs were buckling as we finally made it to the car and Embry led me in, having to tuck my head down for me before he situated himself into the seat next to mine. "You okay?" I heard him laugh, but I didn't answer. I just stared as Jasper and Edward settled down into the driver and passenger seats. "C'mon, Seth…It wasn't that scary…was it?" He reached his hand out and I flinched away from him, my eyes finally blinking.

I turned and look at him, my eyes perceiving his bloodthirsty eyes staring predatorily at me, and I started screaming and swinging wildly, feeling a few of my random strikes landing haphazardly on the creature. I groped sightlessly in the blackness for the car handle to try and run away. "Seth!" I heard it hiss at me. "Seth, calm down." It growled, and I felt its claws dig into my wrists, holding me down on my back and I struggled against its hold, screaming louder.

The demon suddenly fell atop me, using its weight to keep me pinned down. I screamed for Embry to help me, feeling its breath against my throat. _Oh god I'm going to die._ "Is he okay?" I heard someone else ask, and I turned my head, and saw two others in the front seat, staring avidly at me through their feral and scarlet eyes. My heart rate sped up and I started hyperventilating as I watched them lick their lips gluttonously.

"Seth, calm down…just calm down." The one atop me cooed soothingly. "I'm right here. I have you." I struggled violently at the words.

"Are you sure he's okay?"

"Yeah, just drive." _They're having a conversation on which one is going to eat on me first. Oh god! Help me!_ I started screaming for Embry, louder and desperately, fighting against this thing sitting on top of me until I had exhausted myself a few minutes later. I lied breathlessly panting, broken. "Seth, breathe. Breathe and calm down. I'm not trying to hurt you." I heard it murmur pacifyingly into my neck.

It went on saying other comforting words, and placing consoling kisses on my neck, and slowly I began to recognize the voice. "Embry?" I opened my eyes that had closed some time ago, and I looked up into his eyes.

"Yes?" I looked around, realizing that it was him that had me pinned down. "Are you okay now?" I nodded tensely. "Good," he breathed into my neck, still not moving from atop me. "What happened?" He looked into my eyes then.

"I thought you were…one of those…things." I answered coyly, and he sighed before burying his face into the crook of my neck and kissing my pulse.

"I'm sorry," he exhaled despondently. "I shouldn't have made you watch it. I didn't know you had delusions too." He kissed my neck again and I squirmed under him.

"Yeah," I moaned. "I didn't either. That was the first time." Embry hummed and placed another kiss over my pulse. "Embry…what are you doing? Get off of me." I tried sounding menacing, but a moan had escaped past my lips somewhere in the middle. He chuckled against my skin, taking full advantage of my deliria and the rather compromising position he managed to get me in. I felt him nibbling and lightly sucking on my skin.

"I'm sorry for making you watch the movie…but I don't think you wore these tight ass clothes for your own sense of fashion…you tease…plus I'm only doing what your shirt tells me to." I blushed as I remembered my sister's words. _Circumstances between us were certainly not going to change. _I convinced myself, or at least I tried to.

Then I heard that same soft growl emanate from somewhere, and it was beginning to scare me. I growled for Embry to get off me. "Fine, fine, fine." He lifted himself and I sat up straight, and immediately shrank back under Edward's scrutinizing gaze as he stared calculative at me. "You're still a tease though." I heard Embry mutter.

I turned from Edward to Embry, noting the smile on his face, and I smiled. That was exactly why I wore the outfit—to see him smile, and I was glad to note that it fulfilled its purpose. I did love Embry—on a friendly plane—so I would do just about anything to see his smile. "Are you sure you're okay?" I turned back to Edward, and I nodded after his question registered to me. "Hmm…that didn't seem normal."

"I just have a phobia of horror movies." I elucidated.

"I see, but it seems that your phobia might be a lot more serious than you think. It is possible that you perhaps have a medical condition." He analyzed, and his scrutiny continued as he opened his mouth, and I felt just a little smaller with each word. "Maybe you should see a doctor about this. It's plausibly—"

"Edward! Shut up!" Jasper snapped, his head jerking to the side, a menacing glower etched into his features as he glared at the scrutinizing senior. I stared wide eyed at his explosion, noting his knuckles clenching tightly around the steering wheel, but Edward looked completely unfazed by it, his face expressionlessly and his eyes void of any emotions. "Leave him alone!" He trained his eyes back onto the road. "He said he was fine!"

"Whoa. Jazz…dude, calm down." Embry mediated. "It's not that serious," and then he turned to me, "…is it?" I shrugged. "Well it isn't Edward's fault for being concerned." He stated, and the car immediately fell into an awkward silence.

Jasper sighed.

"…that's true…I suppose." The actor breathed, his focus never leaving the road. "I'm sorry." He offered Edward one of his hands as he steered with the other, and my eyes shifted to the pianist. Edward looked at the gesture of his hand, hesitantly accepting it and turning back around, training his eyes to stare out the passenger's window. "Do you forgive me?" Jasper asked. Their hands were still linked, but neither faced the other.

"Yes." Edward replied dryly, and another awkward pause of silence fell between everyone. I turned to Embry who only shrugged before taming his eyes on my body, ogling me once again. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Sooo," I drawled. "Where are we going, or is that all for tonight?" I inquired in an attempt to ease the imminently shallow tension. It took a while, but Jasper finally answered—or growled.

"We're going to eat." I flinched slightly at his tone. _Did I do something to upset him now_? I sank back into my seat, replying with a soft, "Oh…" and Embry again threw his arm over me, and I glared up at him this time, about to complain until he grinned stupidly.

I sighed and again fell back into his chest. Dance was really good to him, because his body, I noted, was very hard and well-defined. I could feel almost every muscle as I pressed myself against him.

I looked up into the rearview mirror, noting Edward's emotionless visage, and I couldn't help but be filled with remorse as I glanced into his distant, golden eyes. His boyfriend seemed to be a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. The thought reminded me of Paul and his outburst towards Mrs. Locke earlier.

_Paul._ My mind murmured to me. _Paul is angry…_I grimaced at my own thoughts. _What is this…the Ghost Whisperer?_ _Am I going to start hearing subliminal messages in my head now_? It was obvious that he was angry…he was always angry. Well for as long as I knew him, and from stories I heard about him. But for as long as I seen him—which was about a day—he always had a scowl on his face about something.

I shook my head lightly as I tried to rid myself of thoughts of him. _He's not even important right now._ I told myself, and nuzzled closer into Embry's well-toned torso. I looked back up at the rearview mirror again to see Edward, but instead I noticed Jasper adjusting it until his eyes met mine before they glanced over my head at who I could only guess to be Embry, and then back to me.

A soft growl emanated past his lips as he stared at me, and my eyes widened before I quickly looked away from him.

**X:~/~:X**

We arrived at the neighborhood's "Pizza Pub". It was a sort of place for teenagers for sit back, relax, and hangout. It was somewhere to stay out of trouble. There were a few of them in Seattle, and I knew just about every manager in each one with as many times as Leah and I would go to different ones after school last year, but this one didn't seem familiar to me. _We must've driven out further than I thought_.

We leisurely sauntered into the pub, a few workers yelling amiable greetings to both Edward and Jasper, but judging from how barren the place was I assumed that it didn't get much business. There were only three groups of people in the entire place. _Then again, it could be because it was so late…wait, what time was it_? My eyes searched for a clock, and read the time when I found one, reading: 9:30 over the automatic timepiece. _I still have an hour._

"You guys came by kind of late, don't you think?" A girl asked both Jasper and Edward, offering an affable smile, to which they both smiled back. Her red hair looked very familiar, but I couldn't place her.

"Hey to you to Vic," Jasper smiled, and she giggled. "But yeah, we're double dating." He answered and I noted this proclaimed "Vic" peak over Jasper's shoulder and look at Embry and me before smiling. "Well actually, Edward and I are on the date…those two are just friends." He turned to us. "Right?" His eyes, for the first time since I've known him it seemed, were tamed intensely on mine, as though daring me to say otherwise. But I nodded.

"Oh hey! I know you," Vic exulted suddenly, staring at me. "You're Leah's little brother, right?" I nodded reluctantly. "Yeah…" she laughed. "Man, me and her used to fight over Jacob all the time…" My eyes broadened.

_I remember her. She goes to school with us._ She was in the same grade as Leah, I remembered. _What was her name again?_ I looked her up and down, my eyes glazing over the nametag of her red apron that read: Victoria, and the gears started churning in my head at the recollection.

Victoria. Her last name was always a mystery to me, but she was a singer like Jake. She was damned good, much like Jacob, if not better in some ways. Except there were no rumors that spread that the school board begged her to come to ACHSA. But either way her singing was definitely comparable to Jacob's, and that was saying something.

I recalled the talent show that our school put on for the public last year to raise money, as they did every year, but not just anyone could perform. There were auditions held to decide who was a qualified participant, but only two people from each department were chosen. Jacob and this girl, Victoria, were chosen to represent the singers of the school. After everyone had demonstrated their talents then the fundraiser would turn into a sort of competition where the audience would participate by deciding which of the two students from each department they thought were better.

Jacob won by a hair, which was no surprise to me. The girl was competition on levels unheard of, but he still managed to win. But it seemed that since that day last year, Victoria had been eyeing Jacob from every which way, but Jake was obdurate on staying with Leah. Although Victoria seemed sweet and innocent, she held a lot of anger and power, much like Leah. Her and Leah would argue constantly—sometimes even, literally, fight over him. There was no telling who the winner was, because they both walked out of it pretty banged up.

But that was last year, because once James transferred in this year she had been all over him. He was cute, I'll admit, but I'll also admit that I still thought Jacob had him beat. But the two seemed like a really good couple. James was a painter and on the football team as well, but he managed not to fall into the crowd of jockeys. I talked to him once, and asked him about why it was he didn't hang out with the other players, but if I recall correctly, his exact words were, "Why would I want to follow behind a group of mentally challenged rejects who don't seem to have anything going for themselves? I'm a business man, and I'm all for the team, and that's the only reason why their presence is necessary to me …for the sake of the team. I'm taking care of business, and that's it."

He was pretty pretentious, I had thought at the time, but I had to say that I was utterly speechless and impressed with his leadership. It was then that I understood why she had fallen for him, but I hadn't seen her all year. I nearly forget that either of them was still alive.

"…good times, last year." She sighed nostalgically before laughing as she reminisced I presumed.

"We'll order here," Jasper said suddenly to me and Edward, and Embry left my side to stand beside him. "Y'all go find a table." He instructed, his southern accent thickening unexpectedly, and I felt a shiver rush to my groin at the unintentional sex laced within his tone.

He might have been a ticking time bomb, but his accent was still, without a doubt, one of the sexiest I've ever heard in my life, especially when it sounded thick and husky like it just had. But despite the shudder wavering in my groin we obeyed and found a booth in the back and away from the three groups in the front.

I sat across from Edward, both of us sitting in the corners next to the window. I studied him as he stared out the window with half-interest, his head resting in his palm. He looked as though something was out there that he wanted…something beyond what he could see on the other side of the glass. He looked… lost, and…absolutely miserable. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, and his golden orbs shifted to me, locking onto mine for a second before answering.

"I'm just tired." Then he looked back out the window. "It's past my bedtime." It was a joke I assumed, but neither of us laughed. I fidgeted with my fingers under the table as I continued to stare at him.

I didn't believe him, not even for a second. But it wasn't my place to intrude upon his life. "Are you sure?" I ask in a final attempt. He looked at me, determinedly, seemingly reluctant to answer the question, and just as his mouth opened to say something, we noted Jasper and Embry sauntering over to us, both grinning from one ear to the other.

I turned back to him, watching as his eyes filled with much more melancholy, and what looked like regret, as he looked over my shoulder at the other senior. "Positive." He said faintly before the two reached the table and he looked back out the window. For some reason it felt like a sharp sting pierced my heart as I witnessed so much pain in one person's eyes.

"Alright, so the pizza should be done in a little while." Embry announced, sitting down in the unoccupied space beside me and casually throwing his arm over the back of the booth and behind my head, Jasper sitting across from him. I continued to watch Edward. "Is everything alright?" Embry asked, and I turned to him.

"Um…" I looked at Edward. "Yeah…I guess."

"You okay?" I heard Jasper murmur under his breath to Edward, who didn't turn to face him, but instead hummed his approval nonchalantly. "Look at me." Edward moved hesitantly to face him, his eyes half closed in an uncaring disposition. "Are you still upset about what happened in the car?...I'm sorry…I didn't mean to yell at you." He pulled him into his side. "I just…had a lot going on in my head. I'm sorry, babe."

Embry "awed" and grinned at the two, and Jasper smiled at my supposed "date", but my eyes remained on the one in his arms, watching as the pain in his eyes only intensified, his eyes downcast to the table, and he gently pushed away from under Jasper's embrace.

"It's fine…I understand." His tone wasn't convincing in the least.

"Thanks, baby." Jasper kissed his lips softly. "…for understanding." I stared at the actor in disbelief. _Did he really just accept that from him?_ I heard Edward hum again before turning to stare out the window, and I concluded that there was definitely something out there he wanted. It was something that Jasper wasn't able to give him anymore—if he'd ever been able to give it to him. I didn't know exactly what it was, but I was sure that was why Edward's eyes looked so contemplative, despite the pain in them, as he wondered where he would be able to found what was missing.

I prayed that he would, and with that I left him to figure out the rest himself. _I just hope you will…someday._ I thought and sighed to myself before tearing my eyes away from him.

**X:~/~:X**

The pizza finally came a few minutes later, and we indulged. Casual conversation flowed between everyone—even Edward said a few words when interested enough. We laughed, glared, and yelled, and I was harassed under the table by Embry's hands on a few other occasions and I berated him for it, but he only grinned and talked about my outfit.

_I'm never wearing tight clothes around him again._ I thought, but then I was hit with reality._ Damn! That's all I _own_!_ We fought, and argued—well just me and Embry; about him stealing slices of pizza from my plate, and him rebutting that he paid for it, and me huffing defeated before sitting back and rolling my eyes.. He hung the slices from his mouth and told me to take it if I wanted it, and I would snatch it from him and throw it in the trash. He would get mad and take my entire plate, resulting in me having to climb over him to get it back, although I already had dinner, but for some reason I felt like playing with him, but he would always just pull further and further away from me, laughing as he ate the food from my plate.

I had a lot of tantrums to say the least, and Embry had a lot of laughs. Jasper and Edward smiled and laughed at us on more than one occasion. And at times I would catch Edward even smiling at Jasper as he fed him and softly kissed his lips. I didn't know if it was authentic or not, but it was nice to see the discomfort in his eyes leave him if only for a brief moment.

"What time is it?" I ask as we all finished eating and were now sitting back idly chatting about this or that. I saw Jasper reach into his pocket and pull out his cellphone with one hand, while his other was slung around Edward's shoulders, and I mindlessly noted that he and Embry were sitting in the same position.

"10:10." He replied. "Need to go?" I nodded. "…okay."

"Hold up." Embry delayed. "I have to go to the bathroom first."

"I'll go with you." Jasper added. "I've been holding it for a while." Embry nodded, and told me he'd be right back, to which I told him that I didn't care if he ever came back, and he laughed, which forcibly made me smile. They both dismissed themselves and again left me and Edward alone.

I didn't know what to say. I noticed him looking around aimlessly. _Well it is one-up from staring miserably out the window I guess._ I decide to pick at the half eaten pizza Embry had left on my plate, and I picked it up and bit into the opposite side before dropping it back onto the plate with no real intentions on eating it.

"You two seem happy." Edward suddenly said, and I stared at him as I chewed the remnants dissipating on my palate. "If you don't mind me asking…How long have you two been together?" I shook my head as I swallowed.

"No. Embry and I aren't together." I gauged his expression and he looked baffled. "We're only friends."

"Why, when it's obvious that you both care for each other?" I couldn't really argue that point. I perhaps cared for Embry a bit more than I put on or showed him, or even admitted to myself, but I didn't want to risk ruining our friendship. "…Do you have doubts about him?" I looked away; Collin's face immediately resurfacing in my mind.

"No." I answered feebly. I heard Edward hum, but it was poles apart from his earlier indifferent hums. It was thoughtful…insightful…happy even.

"Seth…" I looked up at him, noting that he was once again staring out the window, but his lips curved into a small smile as his eyes stared reminiscently beyond the glass. "I've noticed…something about you…I've noticed that you are a very fragile person, yet strong in a way that is unclear to me…but delicate nonetheless." He turned back to me. "You need someone who is strong," he stared directly into my eyes. "…strong in the same way that you are, I mean…I don't exactly know why I think so, but your friend seems very compatible for you, and you seem to be happy with him. He makes you smile, and vice-versa. So why hesitate with what is already factual happiness?"

I deliberated with myself for a while before looking out the window contemplatively, staring up at the purplish-black sky flickering and littered with infinite stars. Infinite. Every time I looked up at the night sky and witnessed the stars shimmering I always thought of that word: infinite. It was so prevailing…so powerful. _Infinite_. I thought. Infinite stars, infinite wishes, infinite possibilities…the sky was boundless, and in a way it was my inspiration…an idol to me.

"Because," I started. "Like you, I'm looking for something." I heard him hum again, this time sounding intent. "I'm looking for something…or some_one_ rather…someone who completes me…my soul mate…someone who's able and willing to show me the infinite number of stars that cross the sky, who, despite the infinite number of wishes I make or the endless number of prayers I say…wouldn't come closer to what I could've ever dreamed of… but he turns out to be all that I never even knew I needed…someone who can show me infinite possibilities that I could have never known on my own…and someone who is capable to love me…infinitely…" I faced him, noting his eyes had widened slightly as he listened attentively to every word. I smiled. "You're right. I do need someone strong…someone whose strengths _aren't_ like mine though…because if we were both the same, how could he ever be all that I never knew I needed…I'm looking for someone who is strong in a different way, who is strong emotionally and mentally…someone who is stronger than the word infinite itself…The one person that I won't question if he's mine or someone else's, because I'll know that I won't only have him while living in this world, but eternally…In this world and the next…"

We sat in an unexpectedly, comfortable silence for a short while. "…that is why I hesitate."

"I see." He stared at the window, a smile creeping across his face. "…perhaps I'll be able to find that as well…someday." I was tempted to call him out about being with Jasper, but discerning the smile across his face, I decided that I had said enough, and I left things as they were, and we sat in a comfortable silence once again. The only sound between either of us being me slurping the remains of Embry's drink.

**X:~/~:x**

**_10:30pm_**

I had finally made it home, but of course not without Embry walking me to the door and stealing the kiss that he was waiting for all night. His lips pressed against mine chastely, and he pulled away saying, "That's all you get for now…that way you'll come to me for more." He grinned, and I rolled my eyes telling him he was out of his mind before saying goodbye and watching him leave.

I closed the door behind me and sighed before running my hand down my face. I looked over at the clock hanging over the mantle, and read it as the moon lit the room dimly, but enough. _10:30? I made good time then. _I thought, smiling to myself.

I sighed again, the fatigue of the day crashing down on me like a ton of bricks, and I sluggishly walked up the stairs to my room. I flicked the light switch and dragged myself over to the bed that looked so inviting.

Wearily I toed off my Chucks and kicked them somewhere. I took the bands from my wrists and moved over to my work desk to put them in the drawer, and my eyes widened as I looked at the small slip of paper lying innocently atop the desk.

"Damn!" I hissed to myself, keeping my voice low for those who were sleeping. "I completely forgot about this." I berated myself and smacked myself against the forehead with the palm of my hand several times.

I had to do it.

_But I'm so tired._ I whined to myself. _Damn my procrastination._ I yawned and picked up the paper, realizing that I wasn't paying much attention to what the assignment was when I wrote it down. I read it to myself.

_Read chapters 5 and 6 of The Song of Solomon and give a brief synopsis of each section, and be sure to note any archetypes you find, and also note the character arcs as you read. —Due 11/18/11_

My eyes widened as I read the paper. _Please say this is a joke._ I reread it, and even recited it out loud for my own ears to perceive, but each time the same words ran in my head. "That's so much," I groaned to myself. "And what the hell is The Song of Solomon?" I contemplated before remembering it was the book Locke had given us at the beginning of the year and said she would give assignments on it throughout the semester and to make sure we read it.

I relaxed. I was given time to read the book, so I was sure I did. I must've just misplaced it somewhere. I hauled my school bag up on the desk and opened it, searching for the book. "I'm sure it's in here. I don't think I took it out…since…" My words trailed as realization struck me. "Son of a bitch," I hissed under my breath. "I didn't read it all." I dug through the bag until I found it.

I noted that my bookmark was still in the middle of chapter four. "I have to finish chapter four, five and six, and give synopsis's?" I groaned. "But I'm so tired." I whined. I sighed, figuring the sooner I started the sooner I could finish. I pulled out the chair and plopped down ungracefully into it before finding a place to start, and began reading.

I looked over to the clock atop my nightstand that ran: 10:35 pm. I huffed, frustrated. _This is going to take all night._ I moaned. I shook my head at myself for putting off what I knew had to be done, and I turned back to the book and began reading.

* * *

**Don't forget to let me know how I did expressing the characters in this chapter, because it will really reflect the rest of the story, okay? And everyone make sure you all check out _GoinnGaGa's_ stories, okay? They are really good! And you should all read our Collaboration fic: _Lifeguard On Duty_ on my page. It's sexy! ;D**

**Well, tell me what your thoughts are for this chapter, okay? Chao for now! ;D**


	11. A People Pleaser

**A People Pleaser**

**Why did you change?**

**_- November 18th _**

**_7:45am_**

I was practically dragging myself out to Leah's car, nearly passing out on the sidewalk. We were more than likely going to be late because of me and my lethargic engagements. I had hardly slept at all last night as I tried to finish reading that god forsaken book. I managed to finish chapter four and read half of chapter five while I fell in and out of sleep. I lost my place more times than I can count and I swear I read a few lines at least three times before realizing I had actually already read it.

Ten-thirty at night had quickly turned to five-thirty in the morning, and I finally just let myself fall asleep before being rudely yelled at to wake up thirty minutes later, pulled out of my chair and shoved into the bathroom.

My routine ministrations were slow—slower than usual. It took me an entire hour to get dressed, twenty minutes to eat two spoon fills of cereal, and I almost fell asleep in the bowl. In my indolent state, I left Leah with only twenty minutes to do everything I had done within an hour and twenty minutes. She looked like speed racer as she flew this way and that way in blurs—or so it seemed. I figured a snail would've been like the Flash to me at this point.

"Seth, c'mon!" She reproached. I whimsically stumbled down the sidewalk, her car parked on the curb instead of the garage like everyone else's.

"Damn far ass walk." I muttered bitterly under my breath. I was bitter…and tired. It wasn't a good combination, not at all. I had to fight against my own body that begged me to stop and pass out on the grass somewhere and just sleep, but I protested as I finally reached Leah's rust bucket.

"God! You're so slow," she chided, scowling. I didn't care. I tried glaring at her from under hooded eyes, but I was sure she didn't catch the concept of my leer. I probably just looked drunk instead. "Get in the car." She ripped open her door, and was seated in the driver's seat before I even realized it, and then maliciously kicked my door open from the driver's side when I took a second too long—but in my defense; she had only given me a second. "_Damnit, hurry up_!"

I stared at the creaking door as it flew open, my comatose slightly dissipating in my incredulity. _How the hell…wasn't the door locked_? "Seth, if you don't get your _ass_ in this seat, _right now_…so help me _God—_" I couldn't have jumped into the seat fast enough if there was a fire underneath my ass. "I cannot be late for Physics again…" she grimaced before growling, "That decrepit old skank already doesn't like me." She turned the key into the ignition indignantly as she glowered at the wheel.

"Baby" putted and coughed out something fierce from her muffler before I felt her rumbling violently under my feet. I yawned, and Leah rolled the windows down, I guessed so that the chilling air kept me awake. "C'mon baby…c'mon," I heard Leah chanting and I turned to see her caressing the dashboard. "Momma loves you…now I just need you to _work with me_," and as if it heard her demand, the violent rumbling calmed to a soft and subtle purr. "_Yes_…thank you…you really do love your mommy, don't you?"

In that entire moment my exhaustion was fully forgotten as I witnessed everything that was happening, my eyes tamed unyieldingly on my sister. I was a tad bit worried for her. "Let's get it!" She suddenly exulted, and the next thing I knew, she jerked the stick into drive and took off. I was more than terrified when I discerned her face so concentrated on the road as she did 50 miles per hour down a side street without a seatbelt, my heart pounding in my chest, my eyes wide and void of any prior exhaustion.

_Oh my god!...This chick is crazy!_ I blindly and hurriedly reached for my seatbelt, and strapped myself in. As I stared at the road in front of us, all I saw were blurs of everything as I noted that she had sped up to 60 miles per hour, her eyes filled with so much determination, and she slammed her foot into the breaks, and I thought I was about to fly out the windshield until she abruptly jerked the wheel to the right, completely disregarding the stop sign at the intersection, and I was gasping, and grasping everything I get my hands on.

"Seth, don't you worry! We're gonna make it!" She told me as if I really gave a damn. I just wanted to _live_. But then I felt the car jerk forward as she gunned it down yet another side street at nearly 70 miles per hour.

"For the love of _god… somebody get me the hell outta here_!"

"We're gonna make it!" She shouted over me, and I lost it and just started screaming at everything the rest of the way there.

**X:~/~:X**

**_- 7:55am_**

By the time we made it to school and I cranked open my locker I realized that my body was shaking. My eyes were wide and I was still in a state of disbelief that I made it out of that alive. My fingers trembled as I slipped my arm from underneath my bag before placing it in the locker, and I turned to the mirror, and cringed.

My eyes were red. _Probably from me not sleeping_. I assumed, and immediately my forgotten fatigue came back, and I could virtually feel the bags under my eyes, pulling them down. My hair…I cringed again at the horrific sight. My hair was disarrayed, and not in a sexy way like Edward's. Mine was windblown and sticking up in every plausible direction, and I ran my hand through it in a failed attempt to tame it and lay it down. _I'm sure hair like this is a crime in some state somewhere._ I sighed.

"Whoa! See, I told you we'd make it." I turned to Leah, noting that her hair looked fantastic. It wasn't windblown in the slightest, and silently I marveled at the sight, wondering how the hell it was even possible. She strutted down the hall, flipped her hair back, as if to mock me, and walked over to her locker.

I had left her when we arrived, so that she could lock and praise her "baby" for a job well done. I noted her beaming face, and I scowled when she disappeared into her locker. "Thirty minutes away and we made it in ten." She laughed. "My baby loves her momma…remind me to get her some new brakes though, would you?"

"Oh yes, I do love my sexy lady." I looked behind me, and saw Jake standing as tall as ever, his grin devouring his face. I turned back to Leah, discerning her poking her head out from the vicinity of her locker before her brows furrowed and she resumed what she was doing. Jake moved next to her. "What was that look for?" He wrapped his arms around her midsection. I would've rolled my eyes at the gesture, but I was too tired to even remotely care.

When my exhaustion struck me again, it struck hard. I yawned, and looked at the automatic clock protruding conveniently out of the wall above the lockers. _Six minutes._ I decided to just hang around for another five minutes before having to drag myself up the stairs to class. I closed my locker and leaned against it, and slid down the wall until I was sitting carelessly on the floor, tempted to just lie down and fold my arms under my head and fall asleep, but I didn't. Instead I just sat up and stared at the opposite wall.

"I don't know. Seth," I heard Leah call, and I looked up at her. "Tell Jacob he isn't allowed to touch me since I'm guessing you're his messenger now." I only stared at her. I hardly heard a word she said, her voice sounded as though it trailed into a murmur. But I noted that she and Jake were looking at me, so I figured it had something to do with him…or me. I didn't know, and I didn't pretend to care. But I discerned Jacob's arms wrap tighter around her waist.

Leah fought against him, and randomly pulled a notebook out her locker and started hitting him repeatedly on the top of the head with it until he let go and moved away from her. "Don't touch me," she glared.

"Now what's wrong with you?" I can honestly say that Jacob's expression was perhaps the most confused look I had ever seen in my life.

"_Oh no_! You have to ask Seth and have him relay the message to me, and then I'll answer it." Jacob's face was priceless. The look alone was asking her, "What in the hell are you talking about" and I wanted to laugh so badly, but I didn't. I smiled though. "You just couldn't wait to run out yesterday could you?" I noticed that Jacob's eyes still weren't showing any signs of comprehension, at all, and I thought I should just help him.

"She's mad," I yawned but continued talking, my words breathy. "…that you didn't tell her bye yesterday," and finally he started to piece things together—or so it seemed, his once bemused countenance, unfurrowing. I chuckled to myself, and shook my head, but felt dizzy afterwards. I lifted myself up, figuring, the sooner I got to class, the less I would think about the long and tiresome journey it was going to be to walk up all those stairs. "I'm about to go." I announced, but was ignored as I heard the two bickering.

"…your mom scared the crap out of me. I had to get out of there…"

"But am I with, Seth? No. Is he my man? No he's not. Therefore you should've come and said it yourself instead of sending him up to do it."

I rolled my eyes, falling asleep briefly as soon as my eyes closed before suddenly waking myself up. _I'm so freakin' tired._ I huffed to myself. "…I'm sorry." I heard Jake's apologetic voice, and saw him move towards her with his arms out, ready to pull her against him. She whacked him with the notebook again and he flinched away, covering his head. "I just said I was sorry." His brows furrowed.

"Bite me!" I couldn't do anything else but shake my head at her, and without another moment of monitoring the squabbling couple, I stalked up the vestibule, and headed to class before the bell rung.

**X:~/~:X**

**_- 9:30am_**

"Seth, you look like you just came from the loins of Death himself." Embry grounded to me as we departed from our Geometry class and walked over to his locker. I grunted my rebuttal as he took my math textbook from my hands and stuffed it into his locker. "…long night last night, eh?" I didn't know if the inquiry was to tease me in so vague way, but either way it made me mad.

"It's your fault!" I glared behind hooded eyes, and again, I was sure it didn't look threatening, because Embry laughed and shut the contraption, hearing it clicked and clanged before deducing that it had locked itself.

"Yeah, I know right." He grinned, and we started walking to the end of the hall where we would separate. "…but you weren't the only one who's had a long night." I shifted my eyes to him, gauging his expression. He still wore his grin. "Remember when Jasper and I went to the bathroom together at the Pizza Pub?" I just stared and he continued. "…well…"

"Well what?" I goaded.

"I don't think I should tell you…" I stopped walking, not believing him. How dare he say something like that to me? Who the hell did he think I was? "I mean, it's not that I think you'd say anything," he quickly rectified after noting my silent protest. I walked up beside him and we continued ambling up the hall. "…he just told me something…and I don't think it would be right to repeat it…not yet at least." I started to feel concerned when I realized the discontent in his intonate and his eyes distant as he stared ahead, purposelessly.

Then he turned to me and smiled. "You understand, don't you?" I grunted.

"All I understand is, you owe me for making me watch that satanic movie…and I've decided that this will be your payment to me…because I want to know." He laughed and I saw him shake his head as we reached the point where we departed from one another.

"You still haven't figured out what your limits are, have you?" I didn't argue with him as I probably should have. Instead I remained silent. He turned away from me and causally sauntered in the direction he needed to go. "…you still want to trouble yourself with more than you can handle." I stared after him as he walked off. "…I'll see you at lunch…we can talk then," he yelled when he was already halfway up the corridor.

I only watched him for a short while before I turned and disappeared down the opposite vestibule.

**X:~/~:X**

**_- 12:00pm_**

Second hour, along with the lunch period had come and gone. I regretted trying to sleep through the useless vocal class I had been forced to attend, because first of all it was a pointless attempt with everyone singing and screaming in my ears, and secondly, because I tried concentrating so hard to block them all out I had given myself a hellish migraine. It felt like someone was repeatedly kicking me in my head from the inside.

But once vocal was over, elated that I survived yet another day of it, lunch was…odd. Or rather, it was Embry who was acting extremely peculiar. I noted that he hadn't even remotely endeavored to bring up his whole Jasper situation. Instead, nearly the entire hour, he stared off into nothingness, his eyes contemplative and distant.

He laughed and smiled at all the right things and places, seemingly pretending for everyone else's sake, but I easily saw through his pretenses. He even offered Jane the usual smile he'd given her every day, and—as I expected nothing less from her—she didn't suspect a thing from the boy she claimed to be so "enamored" with. She just smiled back and immediately started chattering away about something I was certain he didn't even vaguely care about.

I sat across from him at the table, idly speculating between him and the book that I had opened in my last minute efforts to finish Mrs. Locke's homework before her class started next hour. I studied the aloof spectacle in his eyes, and just the sight of the reserved look they contained concerned me, but I didn't press him about it as I attended to my work.

My attention adverted to him every now and again, only to see his withdrawn stare, or a fabricated laugh, or a forced smile, but otherwise I kept my suspicions to myself, and decided that I would ask at a more appropriate time when Jane wouldn't be breathing down his neck every three seconds. But that opportunity never came as the period ended.

I sauntered up the vestibule, alone. Embry hadn't bothered walking with me, saying that he had to go to his locker for a bit, and again, I didn't pressure him as I noted the detachment lingering behind his indifferent stare.

I turned into the class and took my self-assigned seat in the front, and opened my notebook to finish the last minute details I needed to add before class officially started and we had to turn in the assignment.

"Hello, Seth. How are you today?" I looked up from my notebook, noting Mrs. Locke looming over me. The smile that she offered me dissolved quickly when our eyes met. "Oh! Are you okay?" She asked, and proceeded to feel across my forehead with the back of her palm. "…both of your eyes are red, and you don't look too good. Are you ill?" Silently I wondered if she cradled to all her students this way, or if it was just me. "…how are you feeling?"

I moved from under the speculation of her hand before answering, "I feel fine. It was just a…long night last night, that's all…But I finished the homework though." I exulted, ripping the few pages from my book.

I looked back up at her after tearing out the sheets, and saw her lips curved into a pleasant smile. "That's good," she said, and took a step back from my personal space. "Make sure you sleep tonight though, okay?" I nodded.

The bell rang shortly after, and Mrs. Locke collected our completed assignments. I felt a surge of relief deluge my body as I handed the papers that brought nothing more than relentless fatigue upon me over to her. _It's her problem now._

Twenty minutes into class I surveyed the room, perceiving that Paul still hadn't shown up in the habitual abyss he chose to sit in at the back of the room. _He probably didn't come today…at least I hope he didn't._ I turned back to the front, where Mrs. Locke was pointing to the board and uttering something I already knew about.

I was feeling exuberant. No Paul meant no tutoring…and no tutoring meant no beatings for me. I smiled to myself, ecstatic that I had made it out of that agreement. My exhaustion had elapsed as I felt nothing but contentedness rushing through me, and I mockingly berated my streak of unfortunate luck. _Ha! Fuck you _luck_…Seth Clearwater is still here, and alive._ I grinned at the inner dialogue I was winning against myself, amused and delighted. But seemingly, luck was only mocking me as well; getting my hopes up, just to tear them back down, because in the next instant, an impudent knock resounded on the door, and my grin dissolved immediately.

Kim leaned over to me as Mrs. Locke motioned towards the door. "Oh _gosh_…here we go _again_." She whispered exasperatedly to me, and rolled her eyes before she straightened herself upright in her seat. My eyes were wide, and I caught myself involuntarily taking everything that I had said earlier to myself, back.

_I am so sorry…I didn't mean it when I said the f-word back then. I was only kidding…just please…don't let it be him. It can be anybody else, but please…_not him_! It could be Dad in some overalls and with a musket. I don't care, but please…please for the love of—_clearly the gods had some contention against me, because as I begged and pleaded for it not to be the one person that brought undeniable fear into my heart, and caused my blood to run cold through my body, they seemed to have willing disregarded my desperate pleas, because that exact person stood proudly in the doorway, a scowl set upon his ascetic countenance with fire burning in his eyes as he glared down at Mrs. Locke's pejorative disposition.

The very presence of him seemed to have always quieted the entire class. Everyone stopped their initial ministrations, and was now staring keenly in anticipated silence. "Paul." Mrs. Locke simply stated, and that was when I realized that my eyes were still protruding from their sockets, and I blinked to recollect myself as I watched the scene before me.

The repugnance in Paul's eyes was evident, and he narrowed them on her. He elicited a throaty grunt as his reply before forcibly pushing her aside with his shoulder—and the grimace that crossed Mrs. Locke's face didn't go unnoticed by anyone. I watched, titillated, as Paul moved around the desks and fell ungracefully into his seat.

"…did you complete last night's assignment?" My head snapped back to Mrs. Locke, noting that her grimace had faded from her features, but I was certain that it was somewhere inside of her, desperately clawing its way to the surface. Paul was a handful, and anyone that knew his _name_ knew that much.

The resonance of Paul's disdainful scoff captured my attention, and I shifted in my chair so that I could look at him out of my peripheral. "…what the hell do you think?" He sneered, vindictive, but Mrs. Locke stood unfazed by his common-hearted spite, and her eyes remained tamed upon his malignant glare.

_My mouth is dry._ I think randomly, and swallow to try and appease the desiccated sensation clawing at the walls of my esophagus.

"Did you, or did you not do it?" The shakiness in her tone was perceivable as she endeavored to restrain herself from saying anything that would surely only provoke his underlying antagonism. "You already know what I'll have to do if you didn't complete the assignment, _Paul_," that was a growl if I ever heard one, and I found myself flinching slightly at the resounding discord in her intonate. "Do you really want to be taken off of the team?"

I turned around so that I fully faced Paul, and I descried the condescending smirk donned upon his lips. "…coach already let me know about you, so I ain't worried. He ain't gone suspend me from nothin'." His smirk broadened tauntingly. "…and he sho' as hell ain't gone kick me off, so you do what you gotta do."

_Wow._ Was all I could think of, and I turned back to the front of the class, discerning Mrs. Locke shaking her head disapprovingly. The imminent disappointment in her tone was thick as she turned around to the blackboard and proceeded with her lesson, but not before adding, "…I would like to speak with you after school, Paul." Then she turned to me and included, "you as well, Seth," and I stopped breathing.

Although I knew exactly what it was that she wanted to speak to us about, that knowledge hardly conciliated any of the trepidation I felt. If anything, knowing what she had to say made things worse, because just imagining how livid Paul was going to be struck an all too familiar feeling of consternation in my gut. It made things worse just to know when I would die, and knew that I wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

"I want you both to come and see me before the school opens to the arts." I still didn't breathe, and absently I wondered just how long I could go without air.

"Whatever," I heard Paul elicit indifferent.

"Why are you asking for Seth?" Kim interjected, and the sound of her voice seemed to have proven enough to draw me out from my stupor, and I took in a much needed breath. "He hasn't done anything wrong." She advocated.

"I know that." Mrs. Locke replied. "…It's concerning something that Seth and I have already talked about, so don't worry. He isn't in trouble in any way." I had the right mind to tell her to speak for herself. I was indeed in trouble—in so many ways, but I don't think she fully realized that.

"Oh…okay." Kim muttered, and I noted her turn to look at me, but my eyes were only trained on her for a short while before they moved to gander at Mrs. Locke, who, I perceived, was also staring at me in return. Then I shifted my gaze to the back of the room, discerning Paul slouched down comfortably in his chair, both of his arms folded behind his head while his eyes were closed. I admitted to myself that he almost looked…peaceful…_almost_!

The only disturbing part about watching him lying back in such a nonchalant way was the fact that, even though his eyes were closed in what could easily perceived as a tranquil slumber, the scowl across his face—that seemed to be permanently engraved into his features—had fortified further, causing him to look ten times more threatening than when his eyes were open.

_…This is not going to end well for me…it never does._ I sighed grievously to myself, and then turned back to the front, locking eyes with Mrs. Locke for a brief second before she turned to continue her lesson. I heaved another demurred sigh and bowed my head to my desk, and I felt my brows furrow as I closed my eyes. I balled my fist under my desk…

_Damn my incessant need to please people._ I growled inwardly to myself.

* * *

**So after speaking with one of my very ardent and much loved reviewers, I've decided that after I have finished telling this story from Seth's POV I could possibly retell it from Paul's POV...if I feel like it. As she said, it would be a good idea to get into Paul's head and see what's going on in there, so perhaps I can do that...if I feel like it. XD**

**But tell me what you all think of this chapter, okay? :)**


	12. Ineffable Sentiments

**Ineffable Sentiments**

**Why did you change?**

**_- November 18th _**

**_1:25pm_**

During last period, I had nearly fainted again. Throughout the entire hour since announcing that she wanted to see Paul and me after school, I couldn't hear a word that Mrs. Locke was saying with the way my blood rushed through my body and clogged my senses. I had only stared, dumbfounded, as I endeavored to resolve the inner conflict that was brawling inside of my head and that was swelling the apprehension in my body.

I had thought getting out of the class would've given me some form of relief, but it hadn't. When the bell rung, the growing uneasiness in my gut, thickened, and Paul brushed past me in a hurry. I had moved stiffly out the door once I wrote down the assignment chalked on the blackboard. We never went a day without work from her.

I gathered my footings after a while of aimlessly walking up the halls. It wasn't until the late bell rang five minutes after that I realized I had been walking the wrong way. The exasperated ringing drummed against ears, tearing me from my vacant musings, and I turned back and jetted to Mr. Williamson's dreadful class.

When I walked in, although a minute late, I noticed that Embry wasn't there, and I looked around speculatively, a twinge of concern slowly beginning to form. I discerned Alec in the back scribbling on something—more than likely his desk since he enjoyed carving his name artistically into them—and decided to take the seat beside him.

"Hey." I rasped to him, and I cleared my throat. He looked up from his graffiti art, and turned to me. "Have you seen Embry?"

"Umm…no, not yet I don't think. Why?" He was always so inquisitive. He could never just give anyone an answer without asking why it was they asked him a question in the first place. But I shook my head.

"No reason…" I lingered. "I was just asking." He turned back to his artistry imprinted on his desk. Something didn't feel right, and it wasn't just the festering nausea growing in my stomach, or even the fatigue that I had managed to subdue for a short while, but was now pounding itself back into my being, but it was a different feeling.

I was starting to feel hot—trapped underneath all of my clothes, and the air seemed to have gotten denser, muggier. The nibble of concern that began forming a short while ago started growing more and more intense. _Damnit…where is he_? My palms were beginning to sweat. _I don't like whatever this feeling is…_

But before my concerns could teem over into full-blown hysteria, he ambled casually through the door, but my blood flow didn't slow down. He stopped by Mr. Williamson's desk, assumingly explaining for being late, and then he paved his trail towards the seat beside me.

"Where were you?" I asked suddenly before he even had the chance to sit down. He paused for a moment, and from the look upon his face I could tell that he was slightly taken aback from my rashness. I watched as he hesitantly sat in the chair, my eyes never leaving him, and it was obvious that he felt somewhat uneasy under my scrutiny.

"I had to…go to my locker…for a second…" He answered, his eyes telling me of his suspicions. "Seth, why are you staring at me like that?" He moved his desk further away from me. "It's kind of creepy."

After a short while I sighed and shook my head. "It's nothing…I was just worried, that's all." I turned away from him, looking straight ahead at Mr. Williamson as his sketched across some papers with a pencil.

"Oh…" he replied modestly, and I allowed my gaze to fall onto him again. "Well…I'm fine as you can see." I searched his eyes, appraising just how true that statement was. But then I remembered that Embry was practically an expert at hiding what he felt when he wanted too, and I sighed at my futility.

"Yeah." I submitted. We sat in silence for a moment, and I descried Alec looking between us before he returned back to his drawing. "Em," I started, my eyes looking elsewhere, and continued when he hummed. "You never told me what happened between you and Jasper."

I turned to him when I didn't get a reply, or even hear him breathing, and I noted him staring directly into my eyes, silently judging me. "W-what?" I sputtered as his gaze looked determinedly at me. He smiled.

"Don't worry about it. It's nothing you need to concern yourself with." Again, I was taken aback from his response. Just who did he think I was?

"Em!" I grounded. "Stop being so diffi—"

"Just drop it, okay?" I held a growl in the back of my throat as I leered at him.

"Can you please stop being so difficult? I'm trying to hel—"

"Can you stop trying to know everything and stay out of other people's business? Stop trying to please people all the time and think about yourself for once." He bit back abruptly. "Damn…" His brows were furrowed in his irritation, and I was startled at his outburst to say the least. Then he said quietly, "…you need to stop worrying about everybody else Seth…I bet not one time this week have you worried or even thought about yourself, and that probably has something to do with the fact that you always want to be burdened with other people's problems…" He sighed and looked straight ahead, his brows still furrowed. "…just leave it alone…okay?"

I lowered my gaze to my desk. He was right. I didn't. Not one time this week had I worried about myself, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to worry about those that I cared about. I couldn't help the fact that I hated seeing anyone close to me in distraught, and adjudicating from how he was acting earlier, so un-Embry like, it's in my nature to be concerned. But he was wrong when he said I always wanted to be burdened by other's problems. I just wanted to help, not make things worse.

"Are you two okay?" Alec asked, but he was ignored.

"…so it's a problem?" I finally inquired to Embry as I lifted my eyes onto him. He turned to me.

"What?"

"You said I always want to be burdened with other people's problems…so is what Jasper said to you…a problem?"

"What the hell…" Embry murmured before his face fixed into a glower. "Are you analyzing everything I say now?"

"You said it." I retorted, and he glowered at me, but slowly his glare withdrew, and he sighed again.

"Can we drop it…for now at least…Please?" The detachment from earlier returned in his tone, and his eyes showed their vacancy. I didn't know what was going on with him, or what to do. Every five minutes that same look impressed itself upon him, and it pained me to see it. All I could do was stare helplessly at his crestfallen expression.

"Are you two sure you're okay?" Alec asked from behind me, and I tore my eyes from Embry to look at him, noting his look of absolute befuddlement, his eyes darting between the both of us. I only stared at him. I didn't answer. I turned back to Embry and immediately felt depressed when I perceived that his somber countenance had darkened.

I looked away and lowered my eyes to my desk.

**X:~/~:X**

**_- 3:15pm_**

The remaining hour in Mr. Williamson's class had been long and tedious. The entire hour after our little dispute, Embry hadn't spoken a word to me, even despite my endeavors to evoke more than just the subtle grunts and hums he elicited whenever I asked him a question or made a statement.

Williamson passed out the standard Thursday quizzes he had always given. I failed though. I hadn't done anything the entire week but talk to Embry, and when I asked him how he thought he did, he only sighed and shook his head.

When the bell rung, Embry swiftly rose from his chair and moved out the door. He didn't even off me a backwards glance as he strutted out the door, and silently I wondered if the problem Jasper had told him was actually as serious as he was making it seem. _This Embry_, I deduced, _is_ _far from the one I know_, and so I concluded that the problem was as serious as he was making it seem, and it really worried me.

Earth Science was uneventful though, with the exception of Jane chattering about this and that. If I wasn't mistaken, I was sure any words that she so happened to be muttering to me were about Embry, and ironically that was the exact person who was on my mind, but even more ironic than that was the fact that I still didn't care what it was she had to say.

Maybe I was just being a bitch. Truthfully, I didn't exactly favor her. I didn't have a problem with her, but I didn't like her. I'm not even sure my feelings toward her made any sense, but it was possibly more so because of the fact that I cared more for Embry than I liked to admit, and she wouldn't catch the hint and stop fawning after him. It wasn't irritating. It was just…_irritating_!

I was happy it was all over though as the bell rung, signaling the closing of academic schooling, and the opening of the arts. But the thought of it reminded me that I first had to go see Mrs. Locke, and possibly meet the end of my life earlier than I would've liked.

I sighed to myself as I packed the little things I had; a pencil and a borrowed textbook. I had completely forgotten about it. I was so enraptured with Embry that I forgot about my own problems. _Ugh! Embry was right...but I can't help it._ I turned to Jane. _At least if I die I'll be rid of her._ I stopped myself from collecting anything else; questioning if that thought had really just crossed my mind. _When did I start becoming so…ugh! I don't even know._

"Seth, are you going to meet up with Embry?" I heard Jane's shrill voice inquired from behind me, and I didn't let my own reaction slip past me. The sudden scowl that crossed my features was unexpected, but I quickly fixed my face before turning to her.

"Uh…no. I have to do something else." I answered. My eyes trailed down her extended hand that held a folded piece of paper. It was decorated with a little heart that sealed the folds in place, and I couldn't suppress the slight grimace that formed upon my face. _Is she serious right now?_

"Could you give this to him?" I was tempted to tell her no, but then I had to check myself, marveling over this new and abrupt attitude I was beginning to develop towards her. Well it wasn't new. I didn't like her, but I still never made it this clear to _myself_. _Maybe yesterday night really did change circumstances…a little._ I chastised the thought._ Damn you Leah…you jinxed me._

I took it from her. "Sure," I replied instead and shoved it into my pocket. "Well…" I lingered, and she stared, waiting. "I guess I'll see you around." I turned after hearing her affirmative hum and disappeared out the door, leaving the borrowed textbook behind.

I stalked languidly up the hall, maneuvering between the throng of bustling students as they scurried this way and that to get to their last class of the day—not to mention their most exciting class of the day. They vanished behind doors and other places, and within minutes the hallway was cleared.

I walked slowly up the vestibule as I tried to stretch as much time as I needed before I arrived at Mrs. Locke's door. I really didn't want to go through this. Not while Embry needed me…I think. I didn't want to put up with Paul for however long it was that I had to. I just wanted to go to practice and go home.

Where would I even find the time, let alone a place to tutor him? I just wanted to get this over with as quickly and as humanely as possible, and without anyone getting hurt; more accurately, me. I sighed heavily. _Why didn't I just accept her offer when she told me to just forget about it? _I reprimanded my pride. Was it my pride or my stupidity that convinced me I'd be okay with this?

_Damn them both!_ I chided. I heaved a troubled sigh. _This is going to be the worst day of my life…if my life isn't already over by the time we're finished._ The closer I got to her room, the more my feeling of hopelessness set in, but I continued to stale for as long as possible.

_Clearwater's don't give up_. Dad's motto seemed to always be able to find me when I needed it, but in my current situation, I wasn't sure if I wanted it to find me or not. I sighed a third time. I don't think I needed my confidence boasted, because it appeared that every time I managed to set reassurance within myself, I always did something stupid, such as, not backing out of this soon to be inevitable hell. But regardless it came to me, and now I felt ready—or whether, as ready as I was going to feel on this matter…and that wasn't a lot.

Then I recalled my own motto:…_and we don't break promises_. I had promised Mrs. Locke that I'd tutor Paul, and that I could deal with him. I made a promise to myself to help her like she's helped me so many times in the past. I couldn't back out now with all she'd give and done for me. I couldn't break my promise to her or myself. _I refuse to…I will just have to endure it, _I convinced myself, _like I have to do with everything else._

I wasn't going to let my anxiety break the promises I made. I wasn't going to allow it to make a liar out of me. I quickened my pace, meagerly. _I asked her to trust me…and I promised to help her. _I heaved a sigh. _I can't go back now…not now…_

**X:~/~:X**

I had finally reached the door after ascending the stairs, the whole while trying to encourage myself of my purpose and promises. I knocked timidly on the wooden frame, and almost immediately after I heard Mrs. Locke's voice coaxing me to enter. I did.

"Close the door behind you sweetheart." I did. I turned back and noted her sitting behind her desk; her eyes staring nonchalantly back at me. Subconsciously, I searched her dispassionate stare, perceiving the tentativeness that lingered in them, and, almost inaudibly, I sighed my final breath as I prepared myself.

"Where is—" just as I was about to question Paul's presence, I heard his raucous and, rather irritated, intonate resound, fragmenting my inquiry.

"Can we get this over with? I got somewhere to be." I turned to the back of the class and discerned the athlete slouched lazily in his usual self-assigned seat in the abyss. His eyes locked onto mine for only a brief second, and I tactfully took in the resentment rooted in them, and I felt a shiver run through my body before he returned his glare back onto Mrs. Locke.

"Yes…" I turned back to Mrs. Locke as she spoke. "Paul, if you could come up and take a seat in the front row," then she looked at me, "and you as well Seth. Then I'd like to explain why you are both here." After heaving a plainly perceivable vexed sigh, I noted Paul motioning to the desk in front of her desk. I followed suit, and even considered to sit in the seat next to him, but I instantly rejected that thought and sat a seat over to put space between us in case he decided to go berserk.

Mrs. Locke moved to the front of her desk and leaned against it. She closed her eyes. I watched her chest heave as she took in a deep breath before folding her arms over her breast. "I'm just going to get straight to the point since you both still have classes to attend." She said and opened her eyes as she stared directly at Paul, whose permanent scowl, I noticed, deepened the creases in his forehead.

I really didn't think I played an important role in their conversation until the whole "me tutoring him" situation came up. So, until then, I just monitored the dialogue and their interactions.

"Paul," she began. "You're failing my class."

"So." He shrugged. His eyes looked so dead as he glared at her, making them seem even more ominous than only two seconds ago. _Why is he so scary? _I couldn't help but inquiry to myself why it was he emanated such terror into so many—or maybe it was just me, which I highly doubted though.

"It's not just "so". If you don't pass my class you won't graduate this year with the rest of your class." She tried to advocate, her brows furrowing in a more warning manner than angry.

"Maybe you didn't hear me when I told you I didn't care the first time." He growled, and his body seemed so much bigger as he sat upright in his chair. For a moment I thought he was going to get up and in her face, and then just start going off, or worse, hit her. But he didn't. He just sat up and clenched his teeth, I noticed, as he growled the words.

"I went to your counselor during my lunch break," Mrs. Locke informed, completely ignoring his statement. She turned around and shuffled through a few of the random papers scattered haphazardly across her desk before turning back to us with a manila folder. "…and while I was there, Mrs. Starks allowed me to see your file…" I was slightly taken aback. _Is that even legal?_ I asked myself.

She tossed the folder open over his desk. "As it would seem, you just barely—and I mean _barely_ passed all of your other English classes with D's."

_That's terrible! _I tried to see the contents in the folder, but I sat too far away to read any of it. But I watched as Paul's eyes scanned over the file, and with each passing second his scowl became more and more menacing, until he finally tamed his grave expression onto Mrs. Locke's indifferent countenance.

"What the fuck you lookin' through my file for?" Paul spat the words, his tone filled with malice. "Stay the fuck outta my shit...Damn! What the hell you so goddamn nosy for?" The malevolence in his voice sent another shiver through my body.

But again, she ignored him and continued on. "So I've taken it to believe that you've always had some form of trouble with your English classes, yes?" She didn't wait for an answer and pressed on. "Your speech pattern here confirms that." I swore I had heard a snarl bubble past Paul's lips at the comment. It was sort of a crude thing to say, but it was also true nonetheless. "In knowing that, I figured out the best way to have you succeed in my class so that you graduate on time," her gaze fell onto me before abruptly turning back to Paul. She extended her hand out towards me. "Since you and me, appallingly, obviously aren't on good terms with one another—"

"I fuckin' hate you." Paul growled behind his clenched teeth. She disregarded encouraging his ill-attitude for a third time, and silently I marveled at how unyielding she had prepared herself to be for this meeting. I'm guessing she knew she had to stand strong and adamant, or else…well I wasn't exactly sure what else would've happened if she hadn't readied herself.

"Yes, as I'm sure you do." She said evenly. "Which is why Seth here," she paused and he turned to me. I wasn't just slightly taken aback from the full brutality of his intimidating glare, I cringed noticeably. I felt so small under the steeliness in his eyes. "…he will be your tutor." His head snapped back to Mrs. Locke.

"My what?" He snarled, and I sank further into my seat.

_Awe crap! Here we go…_I took a deep breath before exhaling and braced myself as much as possible.

"It is my job to teach you; hence, I'm a teacher." She tried to explain, but from the look of what could only be perceived as fury etched across his face, it was hard to determine if he was listening. "But if I'm unable to do so because of our…differences with each other, then I have to take another route." She scouted back so that she sat more comfortably atop her desk. "So henceforth, Seth will be your teacher in my place and will help with future assignments that you may need assistance with, and he'll help you with all the assignments you've failed to turn in this week and two weeks prior."

My eyes widened. _That's a lot of work!_ I yelled at myself. I don't know why I was yelling at myself, but I was. _How long is she expecting me to do this? I just figured it was a one day thing._

"Are you fuckin' retarded?" My eyes briskly cut to Paul, noting the deep creases in his forehead that showed just how hard he was furrowing his brows. He clearly disapproved from the look of disgust he was giving her. "You ain't 'bouta have no fuckin twelve year old tutorin' me…what the hell is yo' problem?"

_Fifteen. _I corrected to myself.

Mrs. Locke only sighed as she pushed herself up from the edge of her desk, moving around it before she sat down in her chair. "Well, Paul, I guess you just won't get back on the team then…because you've already been cut." Paul's eyes narrowed on her.

"What the hell are you talkin' about? Coach already said—"

"I didn't go to your coach." She stated. She rested her elbows atop her desk and laced her fingers together. "I went directly to Principle Masen and showed him your file, and I explained the entire situation to him. He even concurs to the idea of you having peer tutorial sessions. He told me that many of my colleagues have also brought complaints about you to him, and he thought that it would be a good idea…a new idea to start thinking about doing often with other students as well if it works out well."

"…you lyin'. It ain't no way coach took me off the team for of some damn grades that don't even matter." She only shrugged. I can tell that her new indifferent attitude was really starting to piss Paul off, because his body was shaking and seething visibly as his jaw was clenched shut, another snarl eliciting from his orifice.

"You can ask him yourself if you don't believe me, but either way you aren't going to get back on the team unless you bring your grades up." My heart pulsed rapidly in my chest when she paused and I heard Paul's heavy breathing and saw how his nostrils flared irately. "My thoughts were," she began again, and Paul, allowing his emotions to get the best of him, noticeably tensed from just the sound of her voice. "…once you pulled your grade up in my class you'd be back on the team, but after reviewing your performances in your other classes, Principle Masen denounced you from the team, their games or any events pertaining to any sports indefinitely, or until you've brought _all_ of your grades up."

"Man that's some bullshit!" My heart had stopped as I noted Paul standing. _Whoa…When did he even get up?_ Then a loud bang resounded and my eyes shifted to the chair that had been knocked from under him and was now lying hopelessly on the floor. "Stop fuckin' lyin'. Coach ain't gone—"

"If your coach still wanted his job, then yes he would have dropped you from the team…and he did." She sighed. "Paul, as I've told you plenty of times—"

"No! _Fuck you_!" He flipped his desk over, tossing it into Mrs. Locke's desk, and she jumped back in her chair, her papers flittering aimlessly to the floor along with the manila folder and all his files. Even I jumped—well of course _I_ flinched—but the fact that his rage was aimed sternly towards her and her alone, I really had no reason to. I knew he was going to react this way.

Finally I noticed the grimace that crossed Mrs. Locke's face. "Control yourself!" She berated, leering. "This is no way to act if you _ever_ hope to play any other sports this year."

"You keep fuckin' with me! How about you just stay the hell away from me and let me do me…_Damn_! Why you so caught up on everything I do? You ain't my fuckin' momma."

"I want to help you. I don't want to be nor am I trying to replace your mother, Paul." My eyes widened. _Replace? _I reiterated for myself. "I'm trying to help you. I want to be your friend, just someone you can turn to when you need to reach out for someone. I'm trying to keep you sane…you're just constantly angry, all the time. There has to be—"

"That _was_ the only thing keepin' me from fuckin' killin' you! I don't need you. I've been perfectly fine on my own…So from now on, you betta watch yo back." Mrs. Locke's face contorted to an expression I had never seen cross her features since I've known her. She looked absolutely livid.

"Mr. Meraz! Is that threat?" I stared at her in astonishment. _What the fuck do you think? Of course it is…He is going to kill you._ "Regardless of whatever it is you say to me or about me now Mr. Meraz; you will not be partaking in any sporting events until you pull yourself together. Now, if you believe threatening me is going to solve that problem," he snarled again, "then perhaps you need to rethink your strategy before you act on it."

I tore my gaze from them and looked at the door. _I wonder if I can slip out without being—_my plans were short lived, because the next thing I saw was another desk tossed and fly past my peripheral before slamming into the door. The little glass window craved into the wooden frame cracked upon impact, and one of the desk legs bent into an awkward acute angle. "Oh hell…" I breathed to myself under my breath.

I guess more words had been exchanged between them during my short deliberation to escape. I turned back to them and noted that the desk I had decided not to sit in next to Paul had suddenly disappeared, and my eyes quivered in their sockets as I turned back to the irregularly leg-bent desk that lied on its side by the door. _Thank _God_ I didn't sit there…_

I shifted my gaze back to the two fuming persons in the room. Mrs. Locke was backed up into her chalkboard and Paul was…well Paul was everywhere it seemed, yet at the same time, he was nowhere. From every angle a new desk or chair was thrown across the room, resulting in me either ducking my head or gasping in fright. But when I looked up he stood in the same place he was in from the beginning, as though he hadn't moved at all, his nostrils flaring and reacting to his infuriation.

I took a brief moment and scanned over the room, noting that only a scarce number of desks and chairs still remained untouched, mine included. But I think it was time that I got out of my seat before he felt the need to get more physical with something besides a desk or a chair; with something that he could extract moans and screams of satisfying pain from—more accurately, me.

I jumped out of my seat and backed into the wall next to the door. I assumed my action went unnoticed because neither of them turned their heads to look my way.

"…Paul, calm down!" Mrs. Locke tried to appease, but her fear was readable in her eyes and twined in her voice as the words trembled slightly as they passed from her lips.

"Why you fuckin' with me! I ain't do shit to you _yet_!" Paul bit back, not even trying to suppress his rage anymore as he unclenched his jaw and growled his acridity. "Leave me the hell alone!"

"_I want to help you_!" She screamed back at him. She just didn't give up. "Look at yourself for one second! Look and see all the damage you're doing!" She yelled, and pushed herself from the chalkboard, despite her fright and stood upright. I noted Paul's hate filled eyes burning into her, not once taking her words into consideration and looking at the mess he had just reined upon her room.

It was a total disaster. Desks and chairs littered the floor in strange positions, but none upright. The walls had been marred or dented when the objects collided into them, and the blackboard had a, what seemed permanent, white streak going across it when he threw his projectiles against it.

"You're so angry… Paul, you need help." She stated, and again, for what I believe to be the fourth or fifth time, he elicited a snarl at her comment. But I noticed that he had alleviated—or so it appeared—some of his built up anger and speculated his destruction to her room, but the mayhem didn't look to be enough to fully placate him, because his scowl was still deeply marred into his features, and his gigantic fists were still balled at his sides. "You need to make a decision right now," she continued, and both Paul and I turned to her. "What's more important: yourself and your own wellbeing, or football, because I believe if you can accept my help…or even Seth's help," I tensed, but I noticed that Paul's anger, strangely enough, started to abate, "I believe you'd even be willing and able to accept the help of some therapeutic assistance."

_Awe fuck!_ I thought as I noted Paul's face scrunch with even more rage than before as soon as the last few words slipped past her lips. And as if he hadn't caused enough turmoil in one room, his foot shot out and kick the desk I had been sitting in only moments ago, and it flew and hit the wall next to me. _Thank you GOD! I got out of that seat…_

"_Fuck you, you dumb bitch_!" He seethed. I was fully taken aback with that one, and I think Mrs. Locke was too. His hands curled tightly into fists until every vein was prominent over his flesh, and he barked tenacity with every word he spoke. "I don't _fuckin'_ need you, and I sho' as hell don't need a goddamn therapist tellin' me what's wrong with me like he lived my life. Fuck that shit! You and that mothafucka can kiss my ass!"

"Paul!" She screamed, and I honestly wanted to know what screaming his name was going to do at this point. He had lost his sense of rationality. I assumed she opted to disregard the whole "bitch" comment—I wasn't going to, because I was still tripping out in my head over it—and keep trying to persuade him as she continued to coax him. "So you've decided that football was more important than yourself?...Why? Why put so much into a game?"

"Because that's all I need, so stop tryna know everything about me…just know I need it, and get me back on the team, _today_!" He emphasized the point as the word left his throat in a raspy exasperation. Mrs. Locke just sighed, and inwardly I wondered why it was after all of this she could still sigh that disappointed sigh she always gave him whenever she was…well, disappointed in him.

"Paul, you know I can't and I _won't_ do that." She stared directly into his smoldering eyes with a look of passivity and nativity as though she was a child being scolded by her parents. "That decision has already been made for you. You won't be back on the team unless you get your grades up, and that's final and has already been established, by not only me, but the Principle. But I was hoping that you would at least make the decision to—"

"Shut the hell up talkin' to me, right now. You just pissed me off." My brows furrowed at the statement. _He wasn't pissed off before? What is up with him?_ _How far can he take this…maybe he does need some help—no, scratch that, he _does _need help, and a lot of it._ While I was so indulged in my own reverie, I hadn't noticed when Paul started storming towards the door. I flinched and moved aside before he even came close to me.

"Paul, this is not the decision you want to make!" Mrs. Locke grounded. "If you walk out that door, there is no longer anyway anyone can help you. So before you take another step you need to reconsid—"

"_Would you shut the fuck up_!" Paul shouted before he carelessly kicked the chair lying helpless in his path into the door. Then he turned back to her, eyes filled with so much…hate. There was no other word to describe the feeling that coursed through me. This nostalgic feeling of hatred burning in his eyes was all too familiar, and there was just no other way to explain it. "Just leave me, _alone_!" He gripped the knob and ripped the door open.

"Paul, wait…"

"…fuckin' pest," I thought I heard him sneer under his breath before he, rather unnecessarily, slammed the door shut. Mrs. Locke and I stayed frozen for a few seconds until the little glass frame in the middle of the door abruptly shattered. She responded to it first with a troubled sigh as she found her chair behind her desk and sank into it before dropping her head against the hard wood.

"…Mrs.…Locke," I called, my voice not even portraying a hint of my obvious inner tumult. My voice was surprisingly even and clear, but I still didn't know what to say as I waited a long while just staring at her motionless form.

I tore my eyes away from her for a brief moment and surveyed the room again. It was a mess. It was absolutely atrocious. The maintenance crew had their job cut out for them with this one. "Ugh," I heard Mrs. Locke groan and I sifted my eyes onto her as she still lied with her head down. "I don't know what to do anymore…I've helped him in every way I could think of, or at least tried to. I just…don't know what to do from this point." She finally raised her head and met my eyes, and immediately I could tell from just one glance that she was already starting to blame herself.

"I'm sorry, Seth." She said, and even in her apology, her guilt resounded clearly. She was already beginning to blame herself for something she couldn't help, and it was a shame to see her with such a sentiment of despair manifesting in her eyes. I recognized it so well. This look of guilt smoldering behind her eyes looked all too familiar, and felt all too nostalgic.

My first thought was how it reminded me of Leah and Sam; but then again, how it also reminded me of myself…and of Collin.

I sighed.

"I'm sorry too, Mrs. Locke…I really am."

* * *

**So this chapter was supposed to have been longer than this, but then I read the last line and determined that it was too good of a cutoff point to pass up, so yeah. But it will also be more realistic for the next chapter, I believe anyways, if I cutoff here. **

**But anyways, the really REALLY! Paul/Seth interaction starts next chapter…sorry. This ending was just too good, and I dare anyone else to argue otherwise. XP Oh and good news is, the next chapter is already done, soo yeah…^_^**

**Anyhow, tell me your thoughts. :)**


	13. How It All Began

**How It All Began**

**Why did you change?**

**_- November 18th _**

**_3:45pm_**

I grabbed my uniform from my locker and had gone to gymnastics practice after leaving Mrs. Locke with as many solacing words that I could utter, but they didn't seem to do much for her as the signs of remorse were still tacked in her hopeless stare when I left.

Once I walked into practice—late—I was again scolded and interrogated. I explained everything to Ms. May, and as always, she offered me her comfort, saying, "Well it sounds like you tried and were willing to help Seth, but you can't help everybody. Some people just have to learn for themselves, so don't look so depressed over it. It's not your fault." Then she told me to get dressed and start stretching before practicing.

As I desperately tried to believe her words, find my center, and just forget everything else, Kim approached me and made all those endeavors impossible. She was breathing down my neck and reading me like a questionnaire from the moment I sauntered out from the locker room and began stretching. It was one question after another, and by the time she finished and allowed me to speak I think she was out of breath.

I was tempted to lie and tell her something completely off the walls; like we were planning our next meeting to have tea and crumpets. I smiled to myself from the thought, or rather from the thought of Paul actually sitting and having tea and crumpets. I felt a heavy pressure press against my chest when remembering him brought back unwanted images of his tirade and the unadulterated hatred burning in his eyes.

_I wish it was just tea and crumpets_. I thought and sighed at my remembrance. Instead, since I prided myself on my honesty, I decided to tell her the truth and explained all that happened. "Wow. I told Mrs. Locke to just suspend him like he wanted to be." She responded. I rolled my eyes at her and walked away once I finished my warm-ups.

Five-fifteen had come and everyone was dismissed except me. Ms. May said that I had to make up time for being late twice in one week, and so I had to stay after and practice for another half hour. Jacob had come in looking for me, but since I wasn't allowed to lose my "center", Ms. May sent him away. Half an hour after everyone had departed, I finally headed to the locker room and changed out of my uniform. I left the gymnasium after yelling back to coach that I'd see her tomorrow.

I noticed that there was no one else in the halls, which wasn't a surprise I guess. _I did get out of practice thirty minutes late. _I shrugged. I approached the metal contraption and twisted the dial before opening it. I hung my uniform on one of the inside hooks and turned towards the reflection in my mirror that was staring back at me.

_Ugh! This day has done nothing good for me_. I still looked like crap. My eyes weren't tinted red anymore, but the dark circles under my eyes only seemed to have darkened from all the stress that the day had brought. _And I'm still tired._ I sighed, fed up with today's crap. _I just need to go home and hibernate for a couple of days._

"Aye." Iheard a voice resound, but I paid little to no attention to it as I was completely engaged in criticizing myself on how raunchy I looked, and felt. Only when I heard resound a second time did I remember I was the only one left in the hallways. "Aye"

I looked around the vicinity of my locker, and I immediately felt my breath snag against my chest as I caught sight of Paul standing, not even ten feet away from me, his hands shoved into his pockets with his predictable scowl upon his face.

"You're that Seth kid that bitch was talkin' 'bout, right?" My legs began shaking feebly as my body reacted to the sound of his voice. I only stood and stared, and followed his eyes as they ran down my body and narrowed when he noted my slightly trembling knees.

"S-Seth." I answered fearfully, and his eyes instantly met mine. "I-I…Seth." I repeated, and I knew I was starting to sound stupid as I kept reiterating my own name.

His brows furrowed. "You're the one I gotta work with to get back on the team."

"When?" I found myself asking; glad I had gotten past the phase of just uttering my own name, although the word was shaky as it left my lips.

"Let's get this shit over with today, that way you ain't gotta see me, and I ain't gotta see you no more."

_Oh that sounds just lovely._ I thought. To never see him again sounded like it would be a little piece of personal paradise, but my body seemed to argue otherwise, because as soon as I felt slightly relieved for that little piece of heaven, a painful knot clenched and curled in my chest, and I winced. I tried to ignore it. "…where?" I asked tentatively, while inside I fought to unclench the knot balling behind my sternum.

Paul stared at me unblinking, the intensity in his resolute orbs causing me to look away from him. I figured he was pondering over the inquiry. "My place." He finally answered, and my eyes shifted back to him. I assumed he perceived my reluctance, because he scoffed and elaborated. "I ain't stayin' _here_ if I ain't got practice. Ain't nobody at my place anyways, so we can get this over with faster and without distractions."

I had completely disregarded the knot tightening in my chest. _Did he just…no, no, no, no! He couldn't have said that…_I only stared at him for a long while before finally, in a meek and shaky voice, I asked, "…what?"

I could tell he was getting frustrated with me with the way his face scrunched into a glower. "I said ain't nobody at my house…what the hell is wrong with you?" He asked, but I only stood, silent and dumbfounded as I went through the skirmish inside my head.

The thought of being alone with Paul sent my mind into frenzy. My thoughts ran rampantly, consuming all sense of my rationalities. The thought of being at Paul's home numbed my body. But the thought of being at Paul's house, _alone_—with just the two of us…well that, blatantly said, just terrified the shit out of me.

"Aye…you alright?" I noted Paul's hand reaching out towards me.

"Seth!" It had taken a moment for my brain to process the familiar voice that called out to me and to register everything that happened after hearing it.

Before I could even comprehend what was going on, I saw Paul's pained expression as Jacob pinned him face against the lockers with one hand, and his other gripping Paul's arms behind his back. "What the hell…" Paul hissed, but Jacob only pressed harder into his back, causing him to wince.

"Jake," I called, confused.

"Get back!" He barked to me, all while Paul struggled against him. "I don't want you getting into this," and then he violently jerked Paul's arm up, forcing another hiss to escape past his lips. "What're you trying to do to him?" Jacob growled into his ear, and gave his arm another violent jerk to emphasize his animosity.

All I could do was stare, frozen, as I watched Jake singlehandedly man handle Paul—_Paul!_—for me. It was an…unexpected sight, albeit, Paul didn't exactly do anything to me—except strike fear into my heart from just being in his presence, and the fact that my insides curled from just the sound of his voice—but he still hadn't done anything to physically harm me…yet.

"Jake." I tried again.

"Get the fuck off me!" Paul sneered, and forcibly, and rather painfully from the look on his face, he shoved against Jacob's hold, inching slowly from his grasp as Jake, considering from the look upon his visage, struggled relentlessly to keep him restrained in place. Both of their teeth were clenched and bared, revealing a feral and malicious demeanor emanating from both ends.

Paul looked like a caged lion, and Jacob looked as though he would dislocate his arm the second he had the chance—or even more plausible, contemplating from the string of snarls eliciting past his lips, and the way his teeth were bared, he might've just torn his arm off completely if given the slightest opportunity.

There was a sudden metal _clang!_ When Jake brutally slammed Paul back into the lockers, before he again briskly jerked his arm a third time. Paul yelled in agony, a thread of synonymously lewd curse words weaving immediately afterwards.

"Don't _ever_ try to touch him again!" Jacob snarled, and the demand only provoked Paul to, again, push against his restraint.

"J-Jake…stop." I tried for a third time, but I again was ignored, and Jacob, for the second time, slammed Paul into the lockers; this time much easier than before, Paul assumingly losing momentum. As I watched the scene before me, I perceived the murderous intent I was so petrified of, raging in Paul's eyes, but as my eyes shifted to Jacob, I noted that that same lethal intent burned in his almond orbs.

"I swear to _God_ I'm gonna beat the shit outta you!" Paul sneered, and I felt a shudder wreck my body from the promise his words seemed to hold. Adjudicating from the venom in his tone, I truly believed that he would attempt to kill Jake if he ever let him go, and then me because I was a witness.

But what scared me most, surprisingly, is when Jacob literally drawled an animalistic growl from his huge chest, and then the way he tenaciously lurched Paul's arm until I heard something pop and Paul scream painfully. My eyes, that I hadn't even realized were already wide, were practically bulging from their sockets now.

_Oh my—this is going too far._ I concluded to myself, and even noted that my inner voice wavering. I didn't know if Jacob dislocated Paul's arm, or if he had just shattered it completely, but I did know that Paul was in some serious pain. It was clear that Paul was as mad as all living hell, but he couldn't do anything.

_Paul _didn't_ do anything. Stop him._ My conscience replied back to me. _Stop him. Stop Jacob,_ and then the words started reiterating rapidly in my mind, and it sounded like a thousand voices chanting them at different times.

I suddenly felt winded, and started to pant erratically. _Stop him. Stop him. Stop Jacob. Stop him. Stop him. Stop Jacob._ My conscience recited, over and over and over again, but I just couldn't register it as I stared tactlessly at Jake bending Paul's arm back, possibly tearing it from its socket.

It wasn't until Paul released another pained howl did I begin to hear myself pleading, _stop him. Stop him. Stop Jacob…don't let him hurt Paul anymore_, and I blinked to my senses. "Stop!" I screamed abruptly, my echo resonating down the empty vestibule.

"Seth, I told you to get back!" He barked to me again.

"Jake, stop…he wasn't doing anything." I tried to reason. "We were just talking." His head snapped towards me, his eyes narrowing. "He didn't touch me."

"Talking about what?" He growled, and turned his attention back onto Paul as he again forcibly shoved him against the metal when he tried to liberate himself.

"I'm supposed to tutor him," I elaborated, and quickly added, "…in English," when he drew another groan from his detainee. Again Jacob gave me his attention. "I'm supposed to tutor him." I repeated, and I noticed how Jacob's eyes roamed over me dubiously. "…He hasn't done anything," I said weaker. "So…stop."

It took a short while, but eventually the lethal intent in Jake's eyes dissolved, and he sighed before letting him go and stepping back. "Man, my bad, Paul. I thou—" but his sentence was cut short when I saw Paul suddenly smash his fist into Jacob's jaw, and I stared wide eyed as Jacob's huge frame staggered back before he fell to the floor.

I turned to Paul and my heart stopped beating as my breath caught in my throat. His russet skin had turned noticeably red, and his eyes looked as though they would kill from one glance, his teeth bared and his left hand balled into a fist, his right one hanging limply at his side. Then I heard Jacob groan and I turned to him until I saw Paul take a step toward him and—I had no idea what possessed me in that moment, but my numb body moved in front of him.

"Stop!" I screamed, and again my echo traveled through the corridor. His eyes were tamed intensely on Jacob as he continued to move toward us. "…s-stop!" I yelled again, but he kept coming until he was right in my face, or rather his huge chest was.

"_Move!_" He seethed, but his eyes were still lividly tamed upon Jacob. I didn't move though. Instead, quite startling to myself, I pressed both of my hands against his chest and pushed as hard as I could. He actually budged and tottered back into the lockers, but not before grabbing my forearm and pulling me with him.

He snarled as he pushed himself back up and tossed me aside like a ragdoll and I fell to the floor, but I wasn't down for long as he continued to stalk towards Jacob with brisk and menacing strides. From there, all I knew was that his foot was raised over Jake's head and I had somehow attached myself to his arm and pulled him again.

"_Stop!_" I screamed. His head snapped around to me, and his burning embers scorched into mine, and my body began to quiver under their abhorrence. He stared at me for a second before he snarled and again tried to throw me, but I clung to him.

"Get off!" He growled. I didn't, and kept telling him to stop. I don't know if I meant to stop trying to hit my friend, or to stop trying to fling me like some cheap porcelain doll, but I wanted him to stop. He did after a short while, panting vigorously, but I assumed that it was from his pent up rage and frustration. I opened my eyes that had instinctively closed on their own. I again met his hate filled glared. "Get the fuck—"

"Stop!" I shouted again, and I felt my eyes quivering in their sockets as I stared into his orbs of hatred; his orbs of forlorn hatred that I recognized all too well, but I didn't look away. "…please." I said quietly. "Please …stop."

He stared at me for a short while, our eyes searching the others. Slowly, I noticed, the anger in his eyes began to ebb, and he was once again suited with only his usual scowl. He scoffed before unexpectedly flinging his arm again, and I was sent flying into the lockers before falling to the floor. "Whatever…I'll be in the car. Hurry up so I can get this shit over with." I heard him edict and I looked up to see him walking away, his one capable hand shoved into his pocket.

Jacob groaned again, and I crawled towards him. "Jake, are you okay?" I asked genuinely concerned. That one punch looked pretty painful, and I wasn't even on the receiving end of it. I hoped I never was.

Jake groaned again before lifting himself up on his elbows. "Yeah. I'm good." He said, and I felt relief wash over me, and I sighed. He cupped his jaw in one hand, rotated it, and winced. "Shit!" He cursed, and I was slightly startled as I watched him grind his jaw around, making sure it still worked I presumed.

"I thought you didn't use words like that." I said after a short while, and he sat up straight.

"I don't, but that hurt." He mitigated his jaw one last time before dropping his hand to his side against the floor. "Fuck, that hurt." I just watched him as he recollected himself and shook his head. "Alright," he turned to me. "You ready to go?"

"Wh-where's Leah?" He tried to grin at my inquiry, but winced instead. He smiled though and fell out against the floor again as he chuckled to himself, his long hair sprawled under him. It would've been a good picture from an aerial angle if I remembered correctly.

"She got sent home," he laughed. Jacob was sort of an enigma to me. _How could he be so carefree after what just happened?_ I looked down at my hand. _I'm still shaking._ "She found Garrett."

"Again?" He only laughed harder; occasionally recoiling from the sharp pain that I was certain was stabbing across his jawline. But he nodded.

"Yeah. She told me that if she does it a third time they'll have to suspend her." He clenched his stomach from how hard he was laughing. "Well I guess I'll just be picking you up and dropping you off for the next few days then, huh?" He was killing himself it seemed, as he gasped for air.

It wasn't that funny.

He finally recomposed himself and sat up. "Okay…you ready to go?" He asked as he jumped to his feet and offered his hand for me to take. I did and stood up next to him.

"Actually…" I started. "I wasn't going home." I admitted and looked away from him. "Not yet, anyways." I added. I heard his quizzical hum.

"Why? What's up? Do you have to stop by somewhere first?" He questioned, and from my peripheral I saw him playing with his jaw, moving it this way and that. "I can take you where if you need to stop by somewhere first."

"N-no. Not like that…" I heaved a sigh. I had to tell someone where I was going to be in case I turned up missing. "I'm going to someone else's house."

"Okay. That's cool if it's okay with Leah and your parents." He shrugged. He really was carefree. "Where are you going to be in case I have to come and pick you up?" I stiffened. _I have to tell somebody._ I reminded myself.

"…Paul's house." I muttered under my breath, and for some strange reason the air felt noticeably denser, and I swallowed thickly.

"What?"

"I said—"

"I heard what you said." I turned back to him, and our eyes met. His looked filled with confusion and indecisiveness, like he didn't know what he wanted to say next. "Wha…Why…When did you two…Seth, what the hell?" His brows furrowed and I looked away from him again. "Don't look away from me," he bit off, his chastisement sounding exactly like Leah's. I turned back to him. "Seth, what are you talking about?"

"I told you." I said timidly, fiddling with my fingers. "I have to tutor him…"

"At his house though!" It was more of a statement than an actual question. "No…no, you're not going. I'm taking you home." He said and grabbed my shoulder roughly, and I flinched under his grip as he started walking towards the back door.

"Jake!" I pleaded, and winced again, and I felt his grip loosen slightly. I pushed away from him. "That hurt…" and I massaged my shoulder as I glowered at the floor.

"Seth, what is wrong with you?" He asked frantically, and ignored my wounded shoulder. "Do you not know who that is?" He pointed back to no one, but obviously referring to Paul. "Do you not understand what the hell has been happening to you for the past two years? He's been a part of that bullshit!" Jacob was mad, and that was something rare to see because he never used curse words—not like the ones he'd used today at least; hell, damn, and ass was one thing, but he never used the other obscenities.

"I know that." I replied weakly.

"Then why? Why would you—"

"Because I promised I would! I can't break my promises!" I shouted back.

"Promised who? You're not obligated to do shit for that fucker—to hell with him, and the rest of 'em!" He growled, and he glared at me. I was startled. Jacob never glared—not at me at least. "You're not going, and it's that simple." He reprimanded me and tried to grab me again but I swiftly moved from under him.

"Jacob, please." I begged him, but he only glared harder. "It's only this one time. I'll be fine. I swear."

"And how the hell do you know that, Seth? How do you know the rest of them aren't waiting for you there? How do you know all this isn't a part of some type of discriminatory hate-crime?" He barked back wrathfully. "You know they don't like you, so stop being naïve and let's go!"

He again tried to grab me, but I moved. "Jake…please?" He sounded like Leah. Every word he said I could imagine Leah saying in her usual annoyed and scolding voice. I figured if he and Leah were starting to become the same person, then—I suddenly wrapped my arms around his waist, and he, predictably, caught me and pressed me harder against him just as Leah would have. "Please?" I pleaded innocently, and buried my face into his stomach.

"Let's go, Seth." He tried pulling me, but I just squeezed tighter, forcing the air out of him.

"Jake, please." I looked up, and noted him looking down into my eyes. "Please…it's just this one time." He didn't say anything. We only stared into each other's eyes, the defiance in his eyes melting away slowly. "I'll be fine," and I buried my face back into his stomach. "I promise." I muffled.

I felt Jacob's huge frame rise and deflate as he sighed heavily. "Oh my god…Man, I can't believe this," I heard him mutter under his breath before sighing again. He pulled me away from him by my shoulders. "What do you want me to do, Seth? What do you expect me to tell Leah when I go over there and you're not with me? What do I tell her, because if she finds out about this…" He sighed deplorably. "…she's going to be pissed at _me first_ because I let you go, and then she'll be pissed at you because you actually _went_? So what do you expect me to tell her and your parents?"

I really hadn't thought about that, so I just shrugged. "What? Is that all you're going to give me?" I threw myself around his waist again, and again he fell against me. "…fine." He grumbled. "I'll…try to think of something." He said and pulled me away, and looked directly into my eyes. "But call me if you need me. You have my cellphone number, don't you?" I nodded. "Okay…" His arms hesitantly loosened from around me and I took a step back. I watched as he scratched the back of his head and made a face before I heard him sigh again.

"I'm going to be fine." I assured once I detected his evident uncertainty. It looked like he was about to grab me and drag me to his car and say he changed his mind, but instead he heaved another tentative breath.

"I know." He grunted. "You promised you would…and you can't break your promises, right?"

I nodded. "Right." I smiled.

"Alright then, go before I change my mind and drag you to my car." I knew it. "…by your big toe." He added, and I laughed. He grinned to me and I took another step back, a grin of my own set in place. "Don't forget to call if you need me, and even if you don't…call me by seven if you're still there. If you don't, I'm entitled to panic until you do, okay?"

I laughed again, but nodded. Jacob was truly an enigma to me. How was it that he could he be so lighthearted of everything, and grin that big stupid grin of his after everything that's happened? He was truthfully a paradox to life in itself.

"Okay…I'll call at seven." I reassured. "I'll see you, Jake." He grunted his reply. "…bye," and I turned and swiftly ambled down the corridor, grabbing my bag and closing my still open locker on my way out. I could feel Jacob's eyes on my back as I left out the door.

The wind blew, and a chill shivered through my normally warm body, but it felt nice; better than nice. It felt new; a new sensation to relish and bask in. I hummed and slung my bag over my shoulder as I looked for Paul's car. It wasn't hard because his car was the last one in the lot aside from three others, but it was the only one humming its mechanical tune.

Much like my reaction to Jasper's amnesty Lincoln, I was awestruck when I saw the red convertible purring genteelly, and I cautiously walked over to it after saying a prayer that I made it through this okay. I softly tapped on the window and heard the locks to the vehicle clink and clang, and then I opened the door and heard a foreign tune playing from his speakers.

"…hi." I said awkwardly, but he only grunted and turned off the radio. I settled into the seat and strapped in after taking off my bag and placing it between my legs on the floor.

Without a word, I heard him wince when he lifted his right arm on the shift-stick between us and put it in reverse. I stared thoughtfully at his injured arm as he backed out of the lot, and my eyes sifted to his face when he winced again as he put it in drive. Then I resumed my stare at his arm as he flayed out of the parking lot and onto the road.

Eventually though, I turned and stared curiously out the window, the only sound emanating from either of us was our subtle breaths and the occasional wince he made whenever he shifted gears. I would have predicted that my mind to be whirling with being this close to him, not to mention heading to his abode that was probably as dark and depressed as he was, but it wasn't. Surprisingly, I was calm. I was collective, and my mind was silent.

The last thought that crossed my mind was Paul. My mind said his name in a sedated way, as if it was finally comforted, and slowly, without even noticing it, I started to fall asleep as the heat puffing from the vents surrounded us, leisurely taking me into a much needed nap.

Within minutes, I was completely tranquil, and before I even realized it, I was asleep in the passenger's seat of Paul's car.

* * *

**This was all supposed to be a part of last chapter, but as you can see that would've been too long and as I stated: last chapter's cutoff was just too great. ^_^ **

**But here it is. Oh! and let me just remind you all, I said this is the START of the Paul/Seth interaction, so don't grill me asking why this and that didn't happen. If I wanted the story to be two pages long I would've just given the whole plot away in the "Warnings" section of the prologue. So, yeah…I just threw that out there just in case.**

**But I have good news and bad news. **

**Good news is, the next chapter is finished! Yay! XD**

**Bad news is, school shall be starting soon and everything will be put on hiatus, more than likely until the end of the school year, and then I'm heading to college. HELL YEAH! XD**

**Well, as usual, tell me what you think.**


	14. When I Broke Him

**When I Broke Him**

**Why did you change?**

**_- November 18th _**

**_6:35pm_**

I stirred in my sleep as I tried to block out the raucous voice calling out to me. I rolled over, and with my eyes closed I groped for my pillow and buried my face in it, but the moment I laid my face on it, my eyes snapped open.

_This isn't my pillow_. It didn't smell like mine. I couldn't sense the aroma of my hair gel mixed with the pine scent of my shampoo and conditioner I frequently used. This pillow smelled like…it smelled like nothing. There was no scent to it, but I took another whiff to sedate my befuddlement. _This definitely isn't mine._

"Hey." I rolled back over to the voice and noticed Paul's huge frame looming over me. His eyes actually looked passive for once. Or was that just because of my blurred vision? I wasn't entirely sure. "You been asleep long enough. Get up." He said and moved away from me.

I sat up straight. _This isn't my room either._ I looked around, perplexed. _Am I dreaming or something?_ I thought. _Why is he in my dream?_ As soon as the thought crossed my mind, my memory began to recall all that had happened before I fell asleep in Paul's car. _Oh yeah…_I looked around again, my eyes discerning and lingering on different objects. _This must be his room…I guess._ I yawned.

As my eyes flittered over the space speculatively, I noted that, if this was his room, it looked absolutely nothing like I would've imagined it would. It was so…decorative. It was bigger than my room, a lot bigger. The walls were plastered white, and the floor was carpeted and shaded sea green. There were two desks; one with a home computer atop it with a cushioned rolling chair, while the other looked as though it was made like an artist's canvas in the way that it was slightly tilted forward, a small reading lamp attached to top of it, the neck of the lamp bent into an awkward angle so that it illuminated the surface of the desk.

There was also a bookshelf beside the artist's canvas—_an actual bookshelf!_ Haphazardly, there was a sea green beanbag chair in the middle of the floor that matched the carpeting, whilst the bed—which seemed queen sized and which I was currently on—was pushed close to the huge, square framed window. It was donned was a blue comforter and black blankets with and intricate silver and champagne colored pattern stitched into the coverings.

But what made matters even more surprising, was the fact that it all looked so clean…and neat. Everything looked in place—except the random beanbag chair in the middle of the floor—and while the drapes, which possessed the same intricate color pattern as the bedspread, were drawn back, it allowed for the different arrays of oranges, reds, yellows, and blues glistening in from the setting sun to stream in through the large framed window and sparkle through the glass frame, brightening the many hues of dark greens and blacks that shrouded the room.

"When did…" I started, and watched attentively as he idly pushed the beanbag chair with his foot into the corner next to his computer, and that's when I noticed that he had taken off his uniform shirt—although he continued to adorn the khaki pants—and now wore a plain, small white t-shirt that hugged and clung to his muscled back and shaped to fit the curves and dips of his hips. "…we get here?" I managed to finish, as my eyes raked over him.

"Half hour ago." He answered indifferently. My eyes ran down his figure, but stopped when I discerned his right arm still limply dangling at his side. Inwardly, I wondered how it was that he was able to remove his shirt with only one hand, but even more, I pondered over the phenomenon of how I ended up in, what I assumed was his room, and bed…_I don't remember falling asleep here._

"Uh…How did I…get in this bed?" He stopped pushing the beanbag chair and turned to face me. His eyes met mine for a brief second before turning back to his prior ministration.

"I put you there." He replied uncaringly. "…it's mine." I gasped softly at my correct presumption, and he turned back to me.

"You carried me in here with only one arm?" He didn't reply to the inquiry right away, and my eyes followed him as he rolled his computer chair over to the artistry canvas-like desk, and he placed it beside the chair already settled there.

"You're not that big." He finally replied.

"Yeah, but still…your arm is—"

"It's fine," he growled, and I was slightly startled. _I was only concerned_. I stilled at the thought, wondering why I was even concerned in the first place. It shouldn't make a difference to me if it doesn't make a difference to him. "Over here," he edict. "I wanna get this shit over with."

I watched him sit in his rolling chair after pulling out the other for me to sit. Then he turned to me and his brows furrowed. "_Damn! _Do I have to bring you over here too? Are you that damn useless?" I figured that I had struck a nerve with the whole arm comment, but it wasn't my fault…entirely. Maybe it is, was…to hell with it. I don't care.

_Yes I do_. I sighed to myself, and then I heard him snarl impatiently.

"N-no" I answered, quickly snapping from my reverie. I swiftly crawled from atop the bed, and immediately I felt the plush carpeted floor between my toes, and that's when I realized that my feet were bare. _He took off my socks?_ I didn't deliberate over it too much though, and ambled over to the desk before taking the seat he pulled out for me.

"Uh…" I sputtered. I surveyed the desk, noting that there was a pencil and a piece of paper on it, but nothing else. "…so," I turned to him, but looked away when our eyes met. "…what do we do?" I asked timidly. "…first?"

My eyes sifted onto Paul, and I discerned him shrug. "Don't know," he clipped. "You're the tutor. You tell me."

"Oh, okay w-well…umm," I looked around for what felt like…I didn't even know how many times I looked around at everything, but my mind raced nervously as I shuffled though ideas. _I'm freakin' thirsty._ I thought randomly, swallowing. I believed it was just a thought, but that was until I realized Paul's eyes running shiftily over my visage. He stood from his chair.

"I'll be back." He said monotone.

"W-where are you going?"

"You said you were thirsty," he replied. _I thought I said that to myself_. I didn't know I said it out loud. He turned and moved towards the door. "I'll be back." He mumbled, and I watched him leave the room, but the door remained open.

I stared at the empty doorway for a short while before I sighed and sank into my chair and dropped my head against the tilted desk top. _What am I doing? What in the _world_ am I doing _here_?_ I couldn't believe myself. I couldn't believe what I was doing…or even more, where I was.

I was actually in Paul's _house_, in his _room_. I had actually been asleep on his _bed—bare footed!_ It was pointless to try and wrap my mind around everything, because I was convinced that it wouldn't have made a difference if I could, in some harsh reality, fathom it all. Either way I would still be in the same predicament.

But I couldn't shake the bead of curiosity that was avidly growing inside me. _Paul._ My mind cooed. I couldn't relinquish the hold that happened to manifest from my suspicions. The sensation was very slowly intensifying by the minute. He was such a mystery, almost as much of an enigma to me as Jacob. The more time I spent in his presence, the more I wanted to know him, and to divulge his very being and discover the secrets behind his obscurities.

_This must be how Mrs. Locke feels about him, and maybe that's why she's always trying to figure him out._ It would explain a lot. But I wondered if it was just the two of us that felt the same, or did everyone feel slightly unsettled by his presumably unearthly secrets?

Personally, my feelings towards him were a bit more morbid than weird. They scared the hell out of me. To even be _remotely_ intrigued by someone who has constantly harassed me on a daily basis? It seemed a tad bit…moronic on my part; even if he does appear to differ from the rest…_he almost seems exiled…sort of. He isn't like the rest of them._ I lifted my head up and looked towards the barren doorway.

_All I did was say I was thirsty…I think, but I don't really need anything._ My throat burned…_even if I am a bit parched._ I swallowed in a vain attempt to placate the discomfort. _But he's definitely…_I sighed. I didn't want to call him different—not again. _His friends would've never done anything for me though, so that has to mean—_I shook my head. I was beginning to think too much about him again.

_Because you're titillated by him_, my conscience resonated. I looked away from the door and lowered my eyes to the canvas in front of me. Titillated? What the hell did that mean? I didn't even know I knew that word. But either way, in the way that my conscience just used it, it didn't sound like something I wanted to admit to. Not towards Paul of all people in the world.

"…no I'm not," I whispered, convincing myself—actually, it was more like I was trying to convince myself that it was true. I still didn't know what the word meant, but like I said, it didn't sound a good thing to use that word to describe how I feel about him. It wasn't. I just knew it wasn't, even though I didn't know what it meant at all…_find me a dictionary._ I thought.

Instinctively, I turned back to the door when I perceived, what sounded like ice in a cup, rattling in my ears, and Paul. He moved towards me, two glasses, of what I presumed to be water, in his one colossal hand.

He offered me one of the drinks. "Here." I took it, and he reoccupied the seat next to me. "What's first?" He asked immediately, indifferently, before he guzzled down half of his drink.

I felt weird…weirder than I felt just a minute ago. I felt as though I couldn't place him. I couldn't tell his tone. I couldn't read it at all. He sounded like he didn't care, but not with his usual angry resonance that I was accustomed to, and that confused me just a little bit.

"Umm…" I took a sip of my water. "Well, how about you start with the one we did two weeks ago." I suggested raspy, my voice going in and out as I tried to quickly utter the words, and then I took another sip to distract myself and clear my airways.

I noted his eyes over the rim of my glass staring at me intensely, and hesitantly I removed the cup from my lips. "W-what?" I stuttered bashfully, the ice in my cup rattling as my trembling hand lightly shook the glass.

His brows furrowed at my inquiry. "What the hell do I have to do?" He glowered, and lightly my breath caught behind my sternum. Oddly, the glower felt confusingly…comforting. He was upset, as always, so it felt comforting to know that I could place him again since the usual annoyance in his voice had returned.

"O-oh, uh…" I deliberated fretfully as I tried to evoke my remembrance of the assignment. I mindlessly brought the glass in my hand back to my lips after subconsciously noticing him drinking from his own glass, while my eyes shifted every which way in aimless thought.

As soon as I felt the liquid in my glass touch my lips, my aimless gaze fell upon his incompetent arm, and I paused. I stared at it in all its uselessness, leisurely raking my eyes over it, while I slowly pulled the cup from my lips, captivated, and unwillingly, my mind replayed the lurid incident between him and Jacob, over and over again.

I remembered his pained expression, and the bellowing cry of agony that rippled from him. I remembered the shudder that shook my body upon hearing it, and upon seeing the madness burning in his ember eyes as he glared. I remembered his cry of pain tethering itself into my memory, never to be forgotten. I never wanted to hear it again…but…

I reached out towards it, but he flinched away from me. "What the hell are you doing?" He growled, and I met his eyes, noticing narrowed on me before I resumed my enthralled speculation on his inept limb.

"I…your arm," I whispered, more so to myself, and for the third or fourth time, I looked at it up and down, ogling. It definitely looked dislocated, and I was stunned that he was able to ignore the pain that I knew was surging through his every muscle. "Hold this." I said, still captivated as I handed my glass to him.

"I said it was fine," he bit off. I was certain that he was glaring at me, but I didn't look up to find out; for two reasons. One reason was because they still greatly terrified me, and the second reason was because I was far too entranced by the flaccidity of his arm, and by the expansion of his resilience to tolerate and disregard such pain.

I reached out towards him again, but again he flinched away. "Trust me." I murmured vehemently, still fully immersed within his inert limb. After a while though, and realizing that I hadn't gotten a reply, I tore my gaze from my enticement and diffidently looked up into his eyes again. "Trust me." I said again after discerning that my assumption was correct, and that he was glaring at me. "...It'll feel better afterwards," I tried to assure. "…I promise."

His glowering eyes searched mine, and he quickly skimmed over every contour of my countenance until he finally, without a word, took my glass into his hand. My eyes fell back onto his arm, and I conjectured its condition determinedly.

Again, reluctantly, I reached out to him with both hands. I was well aware that he was watching my every move with attentiveness. My fingers began to tremor the closer they floated towards him. I was an inch or so away from him when, suddenly, I stopped myself, deliberatively. _I can't believe I'm about to do this…It'll be like arming him with a weapon._ I sighed to myself and looked up into his eyes. He was no longer glaring, but watching with attentive anticipation, and it showed prominently in his eyes. I looked back down at the damaged appendage. _Then again…it strangely doesn't feel all that unbelievable to me. It just feels…weird._

I heaved a deep, calming breath, relaxing subtly. "Hur—" I grabbed his arm and he hissed painfully midsentence.

I was surprised. His skin really was as rough as it looked. _Nothing about him every seemed the way it looked_. I contemplated. Although it was smooth, and a little soft in some places, or that could've just been because his arm was no longer fully attached to his shoulder—I didn't exactly know. But I was surprised. But what really startled me was how feverish his skin was against my hands. He was so hot! But I liked it. My body liked it. It felt warm. It felt…oddly comforting.

_His skin…_I trailed in thoughts, my eyes slightly widening as I realized that I was actually touch him. I was actually touching the person, who, a little over forty-eight hours ago, I couldn't even look in the eye. But now…now I was willingly feeling the muscles across his bicep. It was completely incomprehensible.

I was feeling on Paul, feeling how my body reacted to his soothingly warm skin, and I realized that I wasn't trying to help him because Mrs. Locke asked me to, or even because it was perhaps the right thing to do, but because I voluntarily wanted to help him. I felt like I had to. As if something was pressuring me to help him, to relieve him of his pain, and to replace it with something I wasn't exactly sure of. But I felt obligated…like I had felt obligated on placating Leah the night before.

Inwardly I was shaking my head at myself and sighing repeatedly as I desperately tried to grasp the meaning of it. I couldn't. It was too confusing. My life, every second of being around Paul, was beginning to confuse me, and I sighed again.

_Life couldn't possibly get anymore unreal than this._ I tho—

**X:~/~:X**

"Baby!" Paul shouted. My fingers instantly quitted their incessant padding across the keys of my laptop as I heard Paul's voice resound. I looked over to the clock that read: 1:15pm, and silently I marveled at how far I had gotten in such a short amount of time. "Baby!" I heard him shout again, and I groaned.

_What does he want now?_ I turned and looked out the window. The sun was still brightly beaming over the horizon, and the skies were still blue as the clouds glided over them in a peaceful breeze that softly wafted across my face. I smiled as the story between Paul and I fast-forwarded in my mind, blessed memories of childhood years resurfacing, and soon my smile turned into a grin.

I pushed out of my chair, and walked across the mahogany floor, bare footed and opened the door. "What?" I yelled back at him. He didn't reply. Instead I heard him stalking up the stairs, but he stopped as soon as our eyes met when he peered over the banister, and I smiled again at how suspicious he looked. What the hell was he doing down there?

"What?" He asked innocently. _Innocent my ass_. I scoffed to myself. I shook my head and asked him what it was he had wanted. "Look," he said and showed me the small contusion across his finger. I stared at it dubiously before again scoffing and shaking my head. _I've told him about messing with the oven._

"What do you want me to do about that?" His brows furrowed.

"I don't know. Do something…it's burning like hell." He complained, and I rolled my eyes. I shook my head as I walked out into the hallway and down the hall to the bathroom. I grabbed the ointment Mom had always used for my bruises—it healed everything!—from the medicine cabinet and sauntered back to him.

"Here." He walked up the rest of the steps and took it. I watched him unscrew the cap and put it on. He was still a giant in comparison to me, even after all these years. I had grown from 5"5 to 5"9, but he was still towering over me.

"What are you doing up here?" He asked suddenly, his eyes lowered as he continued to smooth the cream over his finger. I grunted, and he looked up. "What?"

"I'm doing exactly what you _begged_ me all yesterday to do," I said with a hint of reprimanding assertion, and my eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm writing the damn story." He grinned and looked back down at his pulsing digit before humming.

"How far into it are you?"

"I'm writing the part when I first went to your house. The very first time and you carried me to your bed." I answered. "I thought you were going to rape me." I joked, and he hummed, amused as his lips curved into a closed-mouthed smile.

"If I knew things were going to turn out like this back then, I probably would have…and you would've liked it." He looked up at me, grinning toothily. I rolled my eyes again, but it was an obvious ploy to ignore his arrogance, but the fluttering my heart from just seeing his smile was undeniable. He was just too beautiful. Words couldn't fathom it all, only my heart knew. _Oh that's a good line…I should write it down and use it later._ "Naw…now that I think about it…not probably, I'm sure I would have." I shook my head at him. He was quite a card, but a catch. "…wait," and he stopped massaging the ointment into his skin. "I think I remember that day…Wasn't that the same day that you broke my arm trying to fix it?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "I didn't break it." I glared.

"The hell you didn't. That shit hurt. You even thought you broke it." His brows were furrowed, and I couldn't help but detect the hint of exasperation when he spat the obscenity.

"It hurt for like three seconds…get over it." I argued.

"Yeah, yeah. That's like me pushing you down the stairs and telling you to get over it." I groaned. He wasn't going to let it go.

Whatever. 

"What are you doing downstairs anyways?" I asked, endeavoring to shift subjects. He grinned again.

"Don't worry about all of that. You just go back to writing." I glared at him, again figuring it didn't matter. _It's probably something stupid anyways._ I pouted to myself and turned around, about to storm off in feigned tantrum. "Well okay." I stopped and turned back to him. "I don't get a kiss or a hug? I haven't seen you all day." I turned back around and turned my nose into the air.

"Nope. I don't get to know what you're doing, so you're not getting what you want." It was a child's argument, but I wasn't exactly all that grown. I was twenty-five, and he was twenty-seven. That actually isn't all that timeworn.

I heard Paul grunt. "Here then." I turned back and noted him handing me the tube of ointment, and I went back to snatch it from him and run. I snatched it, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me against him. I nearly tripped over my own feet, but I was caught by his huge chest; his chest that had only seemed to have gotten bigger since our high schooled years. It took me a while to process that he had tilted my head back and that our lips were sealed together. I pushed away from him.

"Eww." I spat overdramatically. I scrubbed my mouth vigorous with the back of my hand. "You tricked me." I berated, not really all that angry since I had to try and keep myself from grinning. Paul only shrugged.

"Oh well…get over it." He mimicked, chuckling to himself. I couldn't help myself. I grinned at his failed impression of me. He smiled, and again pulled me to him, my body pressed against his huge chest and his arms wrapped around my waist. "I love that smile." He breathed against my lips. "I always have…since the first time I saw it."

"Oh really?" I snickered, and he hummed as I felt his warm breath wisp over my bottom lip. "Well I've always loved you're lips…since the first day you kissed me." In the back of my mind I knew this was going to turn into something more than it was supposed to be. It was impossible for us to be this close to each other and for things not to turn into something _more._

His hold around my waist tightened before he lifted me—as always— and reflexively, I wrapped my legs around his waist. His head ducked to the side of my neck. "Then don't push me away when I kiss you." I felt the tip of his tongue teasingly tracing my pulse, and I shuddered in his arms. "Haven't I told you that before?" I moaned my reply.

I was trying to argue—I liked arguing with him—but instead another moan escaped. His hands roamed over my body, his rough touch moving under my shirt and caressing my back and sides, one hand groping my ass firmly. I tried to speak again, but instead of a moan, this time I was quieted by him sealing his lips over mine.

"Open," he edict sensually against my pursed lips, and automatically I opened my mouth to allow his tongue to ravage my orifice, and he did, immediately. His hold tightened again as he tried to control the kiss. I had fallen into him completely.

A series of moans flittered in the air, emanating from him and me, and he gripped and squeezed my ass—hard and possessive like he always has. I submitted to him. He was dominant. He always was, and I loved it. I loved over he would demand control when we made love, or even just fucked—especially when we just fucked. I don't know what his malfunction is, but it felt like he needed his dominancy when it came to sex, but I didn't complain, because I was more than happy to give it to him. Quite honestly, it was a turn on to me.

He used his tongue to divulge old secrets, already knowing every aspect of my cavern and how to make my body react to his touches. A shiver raced to my groin, and I felt myself hardening. "Paul," I moaned, muffled. He didn't answer me, but instead he pushed me in between him and the wall and grinded his hips into mine, and I moaned again. The familiar heat that came from his body engulfed me. I've always loved it since the first time he held me in his arms.

He pulled away from my lips to release the moan in his chest, and I gasped loudly, panting. "Paul…" I groaned, and again I felt him attacking my neck, biting and licking as he grounded his fully erect length into my pelvis, and a pleasurable shudder shook my body. Swiftly, he pulled me from the wall and moved into our room after kicking the door open. He eagerly crawled on top of me after carelessly _hurling_ me onto the bed and my eyes quickly ran over his body, noting the suddenly feral intent in his brown orbs, and I perceived his erection protruding through the thin layer of his black basketball shorts.

I didn't mind being tossed. I didn't mind getting roughed up by him. I never did. It was natural. It felt good too. Earlier on when we first started dating I learned that it was a major turn on for me. There was just something about his arduous and untamable personality—even back in high school—that caused him to fuck me like some wild jungle cat and that drove me to the brink of insanity, until I was eventually brought back by the white-hot intensity of my utterly breathtaking and blinding climax.

None of that I minded at all, because it was fucking glorious. I didn't mind getting fucked senseless. But what I did mind was him not even _considering_ allowing me to participate in our escapades. Dominating is one thing, but not permitting me to do anything at all aggravated me to no end, and every time I protested or took it upon myself to do something, he would either growl or bite me.

He had taken off his own shirt and tossed it aside, and not even a second afterwards, he ripped mine from my body. He could've at least let me take his off. But I wasn't dissatisfied for too long, because when I felt the ardent aperture of his mouth encircle and devoured one of my nipples, I bit my bottom lip to try and suppress my desire to moan. It usually pissed him off when I did it, and he snarled, that same threatening snarl since high school, and I smirked to myself, clearly not frightened by it anymore.

He bit my nipple, hard, and although it hurt, it felt marvelous, and I groaned as the heat from his tavern wrapped around me. "…baby," I mewled. One of his hands caught one of my wrists and held my arm to the side, while his other one was between us, finding the hem of my cotton pajama pants and slipping under it. I groaned again when he grabbed the stiff member in my pants.

"Ahh…Paul!" I cried when his tongue flickered erratically between both of my nipples, while his hand stroked my taut muscle. My one free hand clawed into his shoulder as beads of pleasure began to coil in my stomach. Then his flickering suddenly ceased, and I whimpered displeased. "Pau—Ahh!" He bit my neck, sinking his teeth into my skin, and I felt his finger hook the hem of my pants, slowly pulling them from my waist, and I moaned again.

I tried to get him to move faster, and snarled—something I picked up from him. It was odd, because before meeting him I would have never thought that I would be able to snarl at anything, let alone even know how to do it. But being with him for so long, I figured I picked up a lot of his characteristic, and he picked up on a few of mine.

I was more aggressive than my former passive self (although still a pacifist), and my temper was shorter, but his was still shorter than mine by a long shot. But with him, after being with me so long, he's actually become less temperamental…with anyways, everyone else still seems to piss him off easily. He also finally fixed his damn speech patterns. It took him a long time to learn that "ain't" isn't a word, no matter how many times I kept telling him. Ugh! I could not stand it.

I felt him smirk against my neck at my snarl, and he purposefully moved slower to annoy me. "Calm down," he admonished softly. "… you sound like a little puppy." He chuckled. "You know what I need to hear."

"Paul! Please!" I whined pleadingly, immediately giving in to his egotistical need to express his dominance. Like I said, I don't care. I loved him anyways, and sex with him was just too good to pass up.

I felt his pleased smirk pressed into the crook of my neck, and briskly his teeth sank into my skin again, and I gasped. I felt my pants being pulled to my knees and Paul's hand firmly stroking my cock as his teeth were trying to pierce through my heated flesh. His strokes sped up, and I panted heavily and moved my hand from his shoulder and tangled it in his short cropped tresses, finding refuge in pulling them. He winced, but he didn't stop biting. He bit down harder. Hard enough to leave a mark I'm sure.

"Ahh, Paul…that hur—oh god!" I hissed, caught between pain and pleasure, and I felt his teeth sink deeper, his tongue fluttering out occasionally to lap at my burning skin, his strokes quickening. I pulled on his hair harder as my toes curled and I bucked my hips up to meet his strokes. I could feel my first climax unfolding through the spasms that stiffened and made my cock throb. "Ohmy_god_! Paul, _please_…fuck me. Just do it already before I you kill me…or I kill you!"

He chuckled. "Fi—" a buzzer resounded, and we both stilled, his head lifting up from my neck and my toes uncurled themselves slowly.

"What is that?" I asked, and he made a thoughtful face.

"Ugh, shit." He breathed frustrated, his head falling back into the crook of my neck with an annoyed huff. His hand was still wrapped around my pulsing member. I was right on the brink of my first orgasm. "I put something in the oven." He laughed and tilted his head up to look me in my eyes. "I guess we're going to have to put this on hold for a while."

"What?" I asked, distressed. "No! Forget whatever it is. I need you. I need you now." I begged and pulled his hair again. He snickered.

"You don't want the house to burn down, do you?" He asked rhetorically.Honestly, that was sort of an idea. I didn't care. I wasn't the one paying the mortgage on it_._ "…just be ready when I come back up here." His breath ghosted across the shell of my ear as he seductively whispered, "…and when I do…I'm going to fuck you so damn good, you're going to be _begging_ me to stop," and he licked the inside of my ear, causing a visible shiver to run through my body, and he smirked knowingly. Damn. I was impressed with myself that I didn't cum right then and there.

He crawled from atop me and stood onto his feet before grabbing his shirt from the floor. I followed him with my eyes. "…don't you have something you need to be finish writing anyways?" My eyes wandered around until I noted my laptop behind me, still open, but the screen had gone black in my absence. "Get to it."

I looked at him, all the while still lying in the same condition he left me; nude, panting, and on the edge of orgasmic release. "You're a jackass." I scolded him, and he laughed loudly. It just proves how much I've become a part of him. Back then he would've let anyone say something like that to him without having a fit and then going into an uncontrollable tirade and breaking something. But I was the exception.

"You knew what the deal was when you said 'I do'. For better or worse remember? I come in a package deal…being a jackass is just a bonus." He teased, and I scoffed.

"Well let me know the address to wherever the hell you came from so that I can send you back." I glowered. "Someone gave me a defective package."

"Ha ha! Funny." He said sardonically. He walked back over to me in my sprawled nakedness that was laid so willingly across the bed for him to take at any moment he changed his mind. "I love you too," he grinned and leaned down to kiss my lips. But that was all. "You know I'm literally only gay for you. No one else can have this. No one but you." I smiled, and then scoffed. He kissed my lips again.

"Get out." I demanded, sitting up. I failed terribly at trying to sound serious as I pointed to the door, but nonetheless he moved towards it, cackling irksomely. "Ugh! You are so _irritating_. Get out!" I chuckled, and he winked before leaving out the door.

I didn't move until I heard the faucet in the bathroom running, assuming that he went to wash his hands. _He better had if he's cooking food for me._ I thought playfully. I chuckled hopelessly at myself, smiling. I really loved him; to the point where I even joked _to myself_ about him. I was really hopelessly in love with him. I smiled and shook my head at myself. "Ugh…I'm like Mom." I turned back to the laptop.

I honestly didn't believe I could live without him. Although, there was a time when I could honestly say that I had hated him, but I blamed myself for it all. I sighed deplorably to myself, my limbs going slack across the bed. All that happened that day, it wasn't Paul's fault, because it was mine. It wasn't his fault that I fell in love with him. I should've known better. It was my fault and mine alone. And again, everyone tried to warn me, but I wouldn't listen.

I groaned and closed my eyes to try and subdue the headache that was inevitably to come. I didn't like thinking about it. I actually hated thinking about it. I hated everything about it; about that day—that _week_! It was the worst week of my life, and every time I thought about it, even back when I was younger, I always got a headache afterwards. The saddest part about it was that I could never stop thinking about it, so the headaches never went away.

My heart clenched in my chest. I had nearly lost who I was completely going through that miserable stage of my life…but I couldn't blame him. I couldn't blame anyone. I refused to, because it wasn't anyone's fault but my own. I should've known better. I really should've just learned my lesson and not gotten involved.

"I really shouldn't have…" I murmured to myself agreeably, and sighed as I skillfully placated my convulsing headache. I had learned how to rid myself of them by now, but I wish I would've known how back then. It would've saved me a lot of strife and pain. "But if I didn't get involved…how would I know him. How would I have come to love him then as I do now?...I don't regret my decision. I won't."

I vested my pants and shirt again before moving over to my laptop and sitting in the chair. _If I hadn't gotten in involved I would have never known what love really was…only what Collin portrayed it to be. And I…would have never known just how much Paul needed me…how much I needed him._ I touched the mouse pad and the contraption lit up, its usual blue banter of light profusely silhouetting the contours of my features.

I reread the last line I wrote aloud to myself. "Life couldn't possibly get anymore unreal than this." I recited. I hummed deliberatively. _I'll come to understand that that isn't true at all._ I mused to myself. Things were going to become very unreal from that point on. Little did I know it back then, but that very first visit to Paul's house jumpstarted the beginning to my happy ending, and everything else in between.

I smiled to myself. _Unreal? Sometimes I felt like I had been pulled into an entirely new dimension. Like I was the only one there and there was no one else to help me, to talk to…to protect me, because I thought I could handle it all…I couldn't. Not all of it…not any of it. I was _way_ over my head when I was younger, _I thought to myself, chuckling at my naivety. _Unreal?_ I scoffed.

_Hardly. Life had a plan laid out for me that the old me would've never been able to figure out in a million years. Back then…I would've never guessed that that little feeling of curiosity was actually just my heart beating in my chest, just a little harder every second I was near him. Back then I would've never guessed just how much Paul and I actually needed each other._ I lowered my eyes and stared at nothing. _It took me nearly losing him, _I glowered…_and for what,_ I balled my fist over the keys of my computer.

_I nearly lost him for what? Rage? Bitterness? Jealousy? Or was it fear that almost made us loss one another? Maybe _I_ was just too scared of my own feelings to really see that I actually needed him more than he needed me. Maybe that was what nearly tore us apart and what virtually left Paul broken into a billion irreparable pieces. Maybe it was my fear that caused it all to happen …or maybe it wasn't. I don't know…It's a shame that I don't know by now_. I shook my head at myself.

_Unreal? _I scoffed again. _I didn't know the meaning of the word then. After that year was over nothing seemed unreal. Everything that had happened was very much real; the love that I felt was real, and so was all the pain that came with it, that was also real, very much so, because it still holds its power over me, torments me…The only thing unreal back then it seemed was life in itself. Life felt so numb, and I was just moving along because I had to, not because I wanted to. It didn't wait for me to pull myself together, it just going as if nothing even happened._

_Back then…Life felt so goddamn unreal, and sometimes I even wished that it really was. I thought I just wanted everything to go away then, and even now I wished these thoughts would just leave me and never come back. But now…now I guess I can't wish like that anymore. It was hard…harder than hard, but still, _I thought of Paul's smiling face…_in the end, I guess it was all worth it. He was worth everything I had to endure, and maybe even a little bit more._

I stopped my thoughts and took a deep breath to collect myself. I felt something fall against my feet, and I looked down, noting that it was a single tear. The tear fell sometime during my reminiscing. When? I didn't know. But what I did know was that, _He is definitely worth it all; the pain, the sadness, the tears, the guilt, the confusion, and even the dread I had felt for so long. He was definitely worth every bit of it, and maybe even a little bit more. _I reiterated to myself.

I managed to recollect myself after a short while, breathing calmly and deliberatively. I started writing again once I settle in completely, but that's when I noticed that I had typed every word of what I thought were private thoughts, my fingers seemingly automatically racing across the keyboard and punching the keys in my comatose state.

But silently, I debated on keeping the words there on the document…as a reminder perhaps as I continued on into the story, but after a long consideration, I highlighted it and pressed the delete button and it all disappeared in an instant. I erased all of what had just been mistakenly typed out…all of what I had just erroneously thought from the page. I clicked the save button, and made sure that I never had to see those thoughts again. I didn't want to relive the torture of those memories over again…ever again.

Dealing with Paul really was more than I could handle then. I took another heavy breath, appeasing my strenuous musings, and I reread the last line I had written to myself this time. _Life couldn't possibly get anymore unreal than this._

It was erased.

It was what I thought at the time while I was in the room with Paul that day, but it definitely wasn't true, and I decided to replace it with a more accurate phrase. Swiftly, diligently, the pads of my fingers scattered across the keyboard once again.

**X:~/~:X**

_Life is truly unfathomable…a paradox of unconsidered proportions._ I thought to myself as I meticulously felt up and down the rough skin of Paul's arm. The warmth of it felt good. I really did like it. "It's going to hurt at first…but…" I lingered on the thought, but said nothing more. I heard him hiss when I pressed against the tactless limb, adding more and more pressure to it.

"Shit," Paul growled exasperatedly behind his clenched teeth, but I ignored it as I felt the juncture to where his arm connected back to his shoulder, and securely, I pushed it as hard as I could back into place, a loud crackling sound resonating in air and in my ears—_loudly!_ An ear shattering bellow tore from Paul's windpipe, piercingly deafening, and immediately I had shrank back into my seat.

My eyes widened. "Crap… I broke it!" I gasped brokenly, and my eyes began to quiver in their sockets as I heard his painful cries of agony. The cries of agony that I had never again wished to hear echoing from him.

It hurt to hear it, but he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. _I broke him._ I thought, terrified. But soon…soon I would come to find out just how right I was.

I broke him…

No.

Not yet…not yet.

* * *

**So school starts Tuesday, and so, while trying to stick to my three day updates, I'll be able to post one more chapter before having to pull it back for a little while. **

**I feel like I have to say something else but I completely forgot what it was. Oh well…I suppose it will come to me eventually.**

**But anyways…Tell me what you think, 'kay? :)**


	15. The Proclaimed Delinquent

**The "Proclaimed" Delinquent**

**Why did you change?**

**_- November 18th _**

**_6:50pm_**

After about five seconds of hearing Paul screaming, which felt more like an hour, he had finally calmed himself enough to where he was only hissing and breathing heavily. Eventually that stopped too and his breathing was back to normal again as he meticulously looked over his arm.

"H-how…does it feel?" I asked, still nervous as I sat shrunken in my seat, waiting expectantly…for what? Well I didn't exactly know. I wasn't sure how I was expecting him to react to the inquiry, but then his eyes suddenly fell onto me, and I noticeably stiffened.

He gave his arm one last look over before replying, "…better." He moved it experimentally, and rotated his shoulder to deduce that it had indeed been reattached properly and was not broken as I had thought. _Thank goodness. _I moaned, relieved. "How do ya know how ta do that?"

"Hm." I met his gaze for a brief moment before comprehending the conveyance of his inquiry, and I look away from him, shyly, my nerves getting the best of me. "Oh…umm. My coach…she taught us." He hummed. It sounded inquisitive, as though he didn't understand what I was talking about, goading me to elaborate further. I faced him again, my eyes immediately retreating and looking elsewhere when his penetrating gaze bored into mine. "Gy-gymnastics c-coach," I supplied flustered, my eyes wandering purposelessly at any and everything.

For some reason I was beginning to revert back into my old self. I wasn't able to look him in the eyes at all anymore or even speak a full sentence without butchering the words. "…we-we fall a lot…and," I tried to look at him again, and from what I could tell he looked meagerly interested in my explanation surprisingly. But I'm not able to contemplate it for too long, because the reticent in my stomach lurched and I looked away again. "…a-and we dislocate things all the time…s-sometimes, I mean…she taught us how to do that…just in case." I finally finished, and I felt heat rousing in my body from the inside out.

I was confused. I was beyond confused. I didn't know what I was. Only a moment ago I could speak to him in fluent sentences without sputtering a single word, but now I couldn't even say one word without stuttering over it._ What just happened?_ I looked at him out of my peripheral, discerning that he was again marveling over his now capable right arm. _Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to help him. I mean, what is he thinking about doing with it now?_ I looked away, panic beginning to swell inside me. _It wasn't a good idea after all. I shouldn't have helped…There's no telling what he's going to do to me now._ I felt myself starting to heave, the vague perception of hyperventilation stirring up just as it had before. _Oh god! I just gave him a weapon to—_I listened as a subtle hum left his throat, and I ceased my inner alarm and looked at him again out of the corner of my eye.

He was still admiring the limb, until, finally, he dropped it at his side, and his eyes fell upon me again. "…Here." He said and handed my glass back to me, and I took it, trembling. He was staring—more accurately, he was staring at how my arm quaked.

"T-thanks." He looked up into my eyes when I spoke, but then turned away.

"What do I have to do with this?" I heard him ask, but it didn't register right away as I was the one now staring restlessly at him. _Is that it?_ I thought. I was expecting him to beat me up or something now that he had both of his arms back in commission. _I'm glad he isn't—or hasn't…yet, but…_I continued to stare, the bashfulness from a moment ago waning slowly. _So if he isn't going to…then that means he real—_"Aye!" I heard the glower in his voice when he growled the word, or whatever the hell it was, and I blinked to clear the obscurity of my thoughts. "I said what do I have to do with this?"

My eyes followed his right arm that now held his pencil, and watched him point to the piece of white school paper. _Oh yeah…_I had nearly forgotten that I was supposed to be tutoring him, my little inner tumult managing to puzzle me, but I shook my head lightly, ridding myself of my nervousness as much as possible before speaking—or rather attempting to speak.

As soon as I opened my mouth, Paul interrupted me declaring, "It's seven. I have something I need to do, so can you hurry up?" He inquired apathetically. He didn't sound like he cared at all, so what did it matter what he had to do with his time?

"You said it's seven o'clock?" I exclaimed. He didn't answer; he only gave me a look that indicated that was what he said and he wasn't going to repeat himself. _I need to call Jake. Ugh!...I don't have a phone. _I huffed quietly. I figured Jacob hadn't thought about that fact while he was drowning himself with his worries. I huffed again. _I need to invest in a cellphone, seriously._

I turned to Paul, contemplating on asking him if I could use his, but as soon as the thought came to me my stomach lurched again. His cold ember eyes met mine for all but a second, and I felt an unpleasant shudder trail up my spine. I couldn't look away fast enough.

"What do you want now?" He asked. Again his voice betrayed its usual malice and sounded softer than what was familiar, and again I felt slightly confused. I assumed my eyes reflected an obvious inquiry to him. But even still, I never would've even considered him asking me something like that, and to top it off, sound as though he was willing to help me if he could.

_He probably feels obligated to pay me back for me helping him_. I could've scoffed dubiously as the thought, but not because it sounded completely and utterly absurd, because it seemed very logical and likely to be the reason why, but because he'd rather feel indebted to me than utter a simple thank you. It wasn't surprising I suppose. _He must have some sort of pride complex or something._ But I answered him anyways.

"Could I…use your phone?" He only stared for a short while before looking down at the blank sheet of paper in front of him.

"There's a phone in the guest room." He replied. It thought it would be easier if he had just forked over his cellphone and I made the call, but I wasn't astounded when he didn't. I expected as much to be quite honest. It wasn't surprising, but what was surprising was the fact that he had a guest room.

_He has guest?_ I thought, and for a second I thought he was actually going to show me where this guest room was, but he didn't. He only shifted in his chair. _I guess the fact that I reattached his freakin' arm isn't good enough for him to go that far in helping me._ My thoughts were sarcastic, and I didn't dare repeat them out loud.

"Where is the guest room?" I asked instead. I watched him shift in his chair again before leaning back in what seemed like a rather comfortable position, as he linked his fingers behind his head.

"Out the door. Go right, then left…it's the third door ta the left." He instructed speedily, and heaved a deep sigh before closing his eyes. I nodded reluctantly and uttered a soft "thanks" before hesitantly lifting from my seat and moving around him and out the door. I closed it behind me.

I looked left, and then right down the long stretched corridors. I stopped when my sight grazed over the stunningly beautiful chandelier hanging just over the banister, lighting the hallway in a hue of gold and a comfortable orange. It was absolutely gorgeous. The fine cut crystal bulbs and the silver metal that contained them, fluorescently shining against golden lighting emanating from precious stone bulbs. "My god…" I muttered under my breath. "That thing looks expensive."

I didn't know how long I stood there and stared at the thing, imagining that it must've cost a butt load of cash, wondering why Paul and his family paid so much for just a chandelier. Admittedly though, it was damned sexy, but nonetheless, it was just a chandelier.

I looked left, and then right. "Uhh…" I blinked dumbly. "…crap…I forgot where to go." I seethed under my breath. I considered going back in and asking Paul, but I knew for a fact that he would be royally pissed off, and I didn't need that. _I think he's already pissed off with me just being here…I don't need to add to it,_ and with that in mind, I tried to remember.

_Okay, now which way did he say go again?_ I looked left, and then right, and then stared hopelessly, groaning aloud. _Damnit. _He had spoken so fast I could hardly remember anything he said, and then with me being distracted by the goddamn sexy chandelier I was completely lost.

_Think Seth, think. _I raked my brain for answers as I tried to recall Paul's voice in my head. _"Out the door. Go right…_" He had said. I turned right and walked down the vestibule. _This hallway is long as ever._ I thought as I finally reached the end after whole minute, and then I looked left, and then right again, and my eyes widened.

"Oh my lord…" I breathed. As I looked down each hall, all I could see was door after door after door. It never ended. _These hallways are long as SHIT!_ I screamed to myself, starting to panic. _I'm NEVER going to find this room._

I sighed just thinking about it. I was supposed to call Jacob at 7 o'clock. I didn't know what time it was now. Jacob was probably going nuts. I heaved another deep sigh, willing myself to at least try to remember._ Which way?_ Again I raked my brain. _"…then left…_" I heard Paul's voice say in my head, and immediately I moved down the left corridor.

I walked slowly, as if something was going to jump out at me at any given moment. _So now where the heck do I go?_ I strained my brain once again, my eyes flickering suspiciously from one door to the other. But as I jarred at my memory, I noticed that it was a failed attempt. _Come on…remember. Jake is probably going berserk. _I stopped and concentrated as hard as I could.

I probably looked constipated because I was concentrating so hard, but I don't know, but neither did I care, because slowly I began to perceive the familiar ringing of Paul's voice at the back of my mind. _"…it's the third door…"_

_Concentrate damnit. _I lamented to myself. _What did he say?_ I was convinced that I was probably going to give myself a migraine from the ruthless workout I was putting my brain through. _"…ta the right…_" I released a puff of air, and omitted a few controlled pants as though I had actually done something physically strenuous. "Thank you."

I turned back down the hall, having already passed the third door, and I twisted the knob and opened it. At first I just stared blankly into the room, but then after it registered, I furrowed. "This…is the guest room?" I stepped into the room, and immediately, a dim orange light flickered on and I felt the carpeted floor plush between my bare toes.

There was nothing in the room except for a few scattered metal music stands, with what looked like sheet music spread across them, a few metal foldout chairs, a huge framed window that nearly devoured the entire left wall, and the floor was carpeted a sea green color—just like Paul's room—and there was one peculiar wooden stool amongst all the other metal objects.

_What the hell kind of guest were they expecting when they set this up? The fucking symphony orchestra?_ I was slightly peeved when I realized that there was no phone in the room. "Ugh." I groaned. I was about to turn and just go back and ask Paul if I could use his cellphone when my eyes landed on a shanty, busted string guitar in the farthest corner of the room that was prompted up against the wall.

"Is that…" I tried to restrain myself from going over to it, but temptation was a sneaky and conniving son of a bitch. It wasn't until I maneuvered my way through the throng of music stands and folding chairs and was directly in front of the instrument that I realized slight tremors were running through the veins in my body, but I stared at it anyways.

After a short while of just staring, I reached my hand out and touched the neck of the guitar, tracing my fingers down the shanty and eroding wood._ This must be Paul's too? _I continued to admire the piece, the pad of my index finger running along the cords before I weighed the busted string against my palm.

I quickly retracted my hand, cradling it to my chest. _What am I doing…I shouldn't be touching his stuff…and I still have to call Jacob._ I thought, but my eyes were still intensely tamed on the instrument. I forced myself to look away, and instead of the guitar, my eyes fell on the music sheets that were spread across the metal stands.

I tried fighting myself. I tried resisting the urge to indulge and pry into whatever business Paul or his family had in this room, but I couldn't. The opportunity…the pull was just too strong, too enticing to pass up.

I meandered sluggishly over to one of the random stands that held the sheets of music, and, reluctantly, I held my hand over the page, tracing the little ink black notes with my fingers as if trying to decipher their meaning upon the page.

It all looked so foreign to me. Well not all of it, since I did have a useless vocal class, but I guess it wasn't so useless now that I thought about it. Mr. Hanson was teaching us how to read music, but the music scattered across this page was beyond my field of knowledge. I read the title of the music, and it read: Joe Satriani's "House Full of Bullets" and I couldn't fathom just how utterly demented that sounded.

I looked up from the page and moved to another random stand, reading the title: Joe Satriani's "Memories", and at that point I figured that whoever this Joe Satriani guy was, he must have been, or still was a guitarist, and without a doubt, one of Paul's favorites. I tried reading the music again, but it was beyond confusing to comprehend even a little. I looked up and away from the inexplicable sheets of melodies, or harmonies, or whatever the hell they were.

I looked to the door. _I really, REALLY need to call Jacob now._ I sternly reasoned with myself and forced my body to move and bend to my will. I closed my eyes so that I wouldn't be distracted by anything else in the room, and blindly I moved towards the direction of the door.

I cautiously felt around with my hands in front of me. Music stand here, move to the side. Folding chair there, pushed back. I thought I was doing well until my leg accidently bumped into something, and my eyes snapped open as I stared at what I had hit. It was the wooden stool. The random little thing was just sitting in the middle of the floor.

After I steadied its wobbling, I looked up at the music stand that stood in front of it. There was no music on it, just a closed, withering and plain cream and brown binder with Paul's full name scribbled fiercely over the cover. I reached out for it, but stopped myself and closed my eyes. _No…no no no no no! Jacob! I have to call Jacob. I have to call Jacob._ I continued to chant the words to myself, but sadly, as I recited the mantra over and over again in my head, I made no effort to move away from the stand, and I cracked open one eye before tightly shutting it again.

_No! No! NO! I have…to call…_I opened my eye again, and then the other, until I was staring penetratingly at the binder, as if trying to see through it. I reached out for it, my curiosity, and need to know what lied behind the withering folds overpowering my sense of reverence. "I have…to call…" but before I could even mutter his name, the binder was already laid open in front of my eyes.

I scanned over the pages swiftly, and as I flipped the pages I noted that the binder didn't have any rings in it. The thing was old. But my eyes ran over every page, just as confused as I had been when I looked at the Satriani music, that is, until my eyes perceived something understandable. When I flipped the last page, I turned the entire binder over on its opposite cover, and read the letterings there that read: My music, in black sharpie and underlined.

The most that I could gather from the words was, since none of the pieces of music in the binder had names printed on them like that Joe Satriani guys had, I could only assume that the music in the folder was written and possibly even composed by Paul himself. I wasn't sure, but it seemed logical enough, and I stared in awe at the new discovery and flicked through the pages once more, this time allowing my eyes to run over the pages a lot more carefully than before.

I hadn't understood any of it, but I read and tried to know its meaning regardless. There was just something that seemed to have been invisibly written between each note that held me there, mesmerized and desperately wanting to understand what it all meant. I could read some of the titles, "Forsaken", "Bled to Death", "Life's Miserable Company", "Blood Thirst", "Prying in my Life", "One in the Same", "Stay Away," and there was one that I found myself reading over and over again, which was titled: "This Misjudged Delinquent", and then there a few others that were written in other languages I couldn't speak. That was as far as I had gotten in understanding the foreign scribble across the page, but it felt like it was enough, but at the same time, like I needed to know more.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" I yelped at the guttural growled, jumping a mile high and knocking the stand and binder over, all the pages scattering across the floor. Petrified, I turned to look at Paul scowling menacingly in the doorway.

"I was…I mean I didn't…the door was just…" I stuttered fiercely as I tried to clean up the mess I had made, but I only managed to make a bigger mess as I stumbled over on my buckling knees and fell into another stand, pushing it over along with three others and the music sheets on them, and two chairs. "I'm sorry…I-I'll get it…I-I just meant to…I mean the phone…a-and the long…hallways…n-no, I mean…the chandelier…and, I mean…I forgot where…" My heart was racing, and I groaned as I scurried around to try and collect everything, fix the stands and chairs upright, _and_ try to explain how I had ended up in the room in the first place. My mind was doing summersaults in my head from it all.

It took a full minute of me jumping around and babbling nonsense, trying to fix things upright, only to knock them and other things back down in the process. I had collected the once scattered pages from Paul's binder, only to knock over the stand again and watch them flurry to the floor, again. It took a full minute of this madness until I finally realized that Paul hadn't said, or done anything.

I stopped my reach for the music sheets lain across the floor when the revelation came to me. I looked up at the doorway, noting that he was now leaning against its frame, arms folded over his chest, and his once menacing scowl gone, only revealing his usual "stay the fuck away from me" scowl. I was perplexed as I stared at him.

I stared and I stared and I stared. And he stared, and stared, and stared back at me until eventually I started feeling flustered under his dead expression and stoic eyes and looked elsewhere. But I turned back when I discerned him push himself from the frame and saunter towards me out of my peripheral in that arrogantly cocky way he walked, one hand in his pocket, and I felt my breath hitch against my chest.

He was hovering over me before I even realized it, staring impassively into my quivering orbs. "I-I-I'm sorry," I said, quickly bowing my head as I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. "I didn't mean to…I was just," I looked up at him, noticing that his eyes were still staring emotionlessly at me, and I stilled.

My legs and, ironically, my right arm began to tremor manically the longer I was absorbed into those void embers he called eyes. It felt like we were just staring at each other for hours, but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds. Eventually he grunted and turned away, and I was grateful, because I didn't know how much longer I could take him staring at me like that—all blank and apathetic. He probably did it to everyone, but I really didn't like it.

I felt my body tense immediately and my eyes widen when I saw his hand reaching out towards me—and I couldn't say I did or didn't, but I wouldn't have been surprised if I whimpered frighteningly at the thoughts that raced through my mind in that second at what I thought he was about to do to me. I just stared widely, unseeingly, already regretting having given his arm mobility again.

But I took my regrets back when, from my peripheral, I noticed his arm reaching around me and not towards me, and I blinked back to reality, watching as he lifted the chair I had knocked over and sat it upright. My breath hitched again. "I-I'll do it." I offered.

He scoffed. "Don't bother." He mumbled, moving over to pick up another chair and stand I had toppled over before returning to me and snatching the music sheets I took from his binder out of my hands with a glare. "You went through my stuff?" I didn't answer. "Just get out!" I flinched at his harsh tone, but stood still nonetheless as he picked up the remaining pages from the floor. He turned around and faced me, his visage twisting into its earlier menacing scowl. "Are you fuckin' deaf now? What the hell are ya still doin' in here?" He barked. "I said get out!" My feet couldn't have dragged me out of there fast enough.

I went back to Paul's room and slammed the door closed—I don't know why, I just did—as if it were my own room and I just had a temper tantrum from something my parents made me do, or had done themselves.

The darkness of the night skies flooded in room through the window. I went and sat on the edge of his bed, my head lowered to my chest. I hadn't even gotten the chance to think with my head still muddled and with Paul wrathfully bursting through the door a minute later.

He flicked the light switch, and the room was discernable under an orangish-yellow light. It was almost intimate with the way the orange overshadowed the yellow, Paul's shadow stretching across the floor.

His scowl had deepened into a rather infuriated glare as he stormed across the room. "This shit is ova wit'!" He growled, and potently, with more force than what was necessary, he flung his chair from its place next to mine and threw it carelessly back towards the computer desk. It didn't make it. It lied helplessly on its side, and made a soft thud sound when it hit the carpeted floor. "Fuckin' bullshittin' ass…" I heard him snarling to himself.

"P-Paul." I offered, not knowing exactly where I was going with it. I watched as he flew from one side of the room to the next, angrily pacing.

"Here." He tossed me his cellphone. "Call whoever the fuck it is you gotta call an' tell 'em ta hurry the fuck up an' come git cho' ass!" To say that I was hurt by the words would've been too obvious, but I was. I was only trying to help him get back on the football team, something that he claimed was all he needed, but I guess I couldn't be upset with him. After all, it was me who went through _his_ things. But now I'm guessing that everything I saw and rummaged through in that room was part of his private life that he didn't want anyone to know about. But really, what the hell _wasn't_ private when it came to him.

_Then you should've known better from the beginning than to go through his things,_ my conscience reprimanded. Gosh! My conscience, I concluded, could be such a _fuckin'_ _bitch_! But nonetheless it was right. I lowered my eyes.

"…I didn't—" I tried again, but he effectively cut me off when his loud, booming voice barked vicious malice at me.

"You just like that bitch!" He shouted, his ember orbs enflamed with rage, his glower ten times more malevolent than I ever saw it, and I literally thought my heart was going to tear a new hole through my chest from how fast and harsh it was pounding against my sternum.

Hardly though, I noticed the slight twinge of hurt in his words. _What did I do to him?_ Oh yeah, go through his shit. Right.

I shuddered and gasped loudly when I saw him storming over to me, enraged, and in a desperate move to escape; I fell on my back onto his bed. Then I suddenly felt myself being jerked forward from the bed and I yelped in surprise from the brisk action.

I opened my eyes that had closed on their own, and saw that I was face to face with him, his glare burning holes into my skull and my memory, permanently etching itself a place in my brain to never be forgotten.

It wasn't until I tried to tear myself away from him that I realized my feet were dangling in midair as he held me up with one hand by the collar of my shirt, and I dropped the phone he had tossed into my lap. I heard a few stitches from my shirt rip in his iron grip, my skin melting from his sweltering glare.

"Is that why her ass was preachin' all that tutorin' bullshit?" He growled. He pulled my face closer to his, so close in fact that I could feel the warmth of his breath wafting over my distraught countenance. I closed my eyes while my hands still pointlessly toiled to liberate my shirt from his grasp. "…so she can have you goin' through my shit? You tell that bitch ta stay the _fuck away from me_!" He seethed rigorously, and violently he threw me onto the bed.

I again opened my eyes that had closed on their own, and looked up from my laid position at him balanced over me, his fist drawn back threateningly as though he were about to hit me, and my eyes widened before closing expectantly, and I curled into myself. My body tensed as I waited for what I knew was coming, and I quaked in terror. Surprisingly, after a few of seconds, I realized that the expectant vicious beating never came.

I quickly recollected myself and turned back to him with wide eyes, panting from the fright that instilled itself within my core, his fist still curled menacingly over me and his eyes still burned with an intense flame. "I swear ta fuckin' _God_…" He cursed and yelled, as he tried to lament some of his frustrated anger, and he took a few steps back before going into frenzy.

I watched him angrily pace back and forth. He continued to spewing a sling of berating words under his breath as he paced, obviously trying to retain himself from lashing out against me and brutally pounding his fist into my face. It only confused me.

I couldn't understand—and neither could I really concentrate at that moment—but regardless, it seemed impossible for me to even remotely comprehend what kind of person Paul was. I couldn't begin to fathom his reasoning. I couldn't begin to understand a single thing about him. I couldn't begin to know what was going through his head.

Why wouldn't he just hit me? The question in itself was a riddle to me. It wasn't that I wanted him to, but each second, even in the mist of terror, I couldn't help but want to know him, understand him. Who the hell was he?

Why won't he just beat me until he felt justly satisfied like all the rest of his friends would've done? Like the notes across his music sheets, the answer was indecipherable.

I had always had a sense of reading people. Some called it my sixth sense, but it was simply intuition. I've had it since as long as I could remember, and it never failed…not even with Collin. I knew better. I should've followed my first mind and my instincts with regards to him, but I didn't.

But Paul? Paul was an entirely different story. I couldn't even _vaguely_ begin to gauge his person. Even though he has the ability to scare the crap out of me, I can't fight the want to know him…and the more he shows me pieces of himself, the more that simple "want" turns into a need. I slowly begin to feel myself _needing_ to just know who the hell he is.

_Who are you? _I hadn't noticed that my heart rate had sped up, and I was beginning to get angry myself because I just _couldn't understand him, and I didn't know why!_ "Why are you so goddamn _different_?" I found myself yelling out loud, and he stopped.

"What the hell you say?" He seethed, glaring directing into my eyes. Surprisingly though, I was doing the same to him. I didn't know him, but I wanted to. I shouldn't know him, but I needed to. I felt like I had to know him. Ugh! He just managed to jumble my brain completely.

I sat up straight.

"You," I said. "Why are you so different?" My voice didn't waver like it normally did. I was upset. He was too hard. It had only been about three days since I saw his face and noticed those murderous eyes staring into mine, but never, in all of my life had it taken me so long to feel a person out. _Ever!_ _He was_ _irritating me!_ But I didn't know why. "Why aren't you like everyone else? Why do you have to be different?"

He snarled loudly. "Look here you little fuck," he growled, again storming over to me, his eyes penetrating, but I didn't look away. I wouldn't look away, and I continued to glare. "You don't fuckin' know a goddamn thing about me," he shoved me roughly in my chest, and I fell back down against his bed again. "So don't fuckin' talk to me like you know how fucked up my life is!" I tried sitting up again, but he just pushed me back down and jumped on top of me, gripping both of my wrists in his colossal hands in his iron grip. "_And don't fuckin' question me like some goddamn therapist, you got that shit?_"

"But I don't know you!" I advocated, trying to use my elbows to support me, but he was too heavy. "I don't know a damn thing about you, and it's irritating me!" He didn't say anything. "Just tell me…who the hell are you?" He still didn't say anything. Snarls passed from between his lips, and he glared harder. My own glower hadn't faltered either as we stared intensely into each other's fiery orbs.

I thought that hours had gone by with us just staring at one another, and me dying slowly with each passing second as I stared into his murderous orbs, but after a while I realized that I wasn't dying…not exactly anyways. But I was drowning—metaphorically of course. Metaphorically I was drowning. My senses had dulled and disappeared—except sight. My peripheral sight had blurred and vanished, and all I could see was brown eyes that looked almost golden under the dim lighting in his room.

But it hadn't been hours. Only a few moments had past, seconds perhaps…or ten minutes. Ten minutes had passed with him snarling in my face like some undomesticated animal, his body weight crushing mine. I had grown accustom to his weight rather quickly though. But ten minutes had passed with each of us glaring at the other, and with me losing myself in his eyes, until he finally groaned.

He elicited his last snarl before crawling from atop me, and I pushed myself up on my elbows. "You don't need ta know a damn thing about me…" he didn't sound upset, but his eyes, that I never stopped staring into, told me otherwise. He was still angry. He looked away from me and bent down to retrieve his cellphone from the floor and tossed it next to me on the bed. "…just call whoever it is you gotta call so you can leave."

He didn't look at me, I noticed, but I continued to stare back at him. I sat up on the edge of the bed, my fingers brushing against his phone, and finally I looked away from him and down at the social contraption. I clutched it in my palm and looked back up at him. I watched as he stalked over to the artistry desk and crumpled up the blank sheet of school paper and tossed it in the waste basket.

I turned my attention back to the small device in my hand, and sat it in my lap. _Jacob._ My mind reminded me, and I sighed, and I felt my glare, that I hadn't known was still intact, disappear. _I need to call him._ I told myself and pressed a random key and watched as the black screen glowed blue. _7:17pm._ I read across the small screen and hummed. I decided that Jacob had lost his marbles by now, and figured that I should really call him now, but…

I looked back up, and saw that Paul had settled himself in the chair I had been in at the canvas-like desk. I needed to call Jacob. I did. I knew I did. But Paul was right here, and shamefully, I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I felt more compelled to divulge in whatever thoughts were running through his head right then as he stared at nothing but the wall in front of him. I had to know. I had to know while I still possessed the momentum to…argue? I don't know what this feeling was, but I knew it helped me talk to him.

I dropped the phone back to my lap, and closed my eyes briefly before reopening them a moment later. "…Paul…" I called softly. He didn't respond, or even look my way. But I continued anyway. "Why…" I trailed. I didn't know exactly know what I was trying to say next. Although, I did have one question that I was desperate for him to answer. One question since I got to his house that I've just been dying to know. "…why…are you friends with them?" He still didn't say anything, but his eyes sifted onto me from his peripheral, and I assumed he knew what group of friends I was talking about. I looked away from his indifferent stare and down at my feet against the floor.

_Damnit_. I was beginning to shrink back into myself, beginning to lose my momentum. "I mean…you're not like them, not to me at least. You're…you're different. It seems like—to me I mean…that you're more of a…" I looked around the floor aimlessly as I looked for the words that were jumbled somewhere in my head, and tentatively, I met his sideways stare when I found them. "…you're more of an outcast…like me."

Another two minutes past with him staring sideways at me, and me trying my damnedest not to look away from him under the invisible pressure his look was pressing upon me. Then he finally shifted in his chair, and actually turned in it to face me, and thus commenced another stare-off.

"Is that what you think?" He asked, and I nodded my head, and again we offered our words to silence and just stared. But then he did something that completely befuddled me, and it was right then and there that I realized that: there is no way in hell I was ever going to understand him.

He had smirked. He had actually _smirked_. It wasn't one of his usual feral or demented smirks, but he actually looked amused, and for some reason, I felt a tingle rush through my body. If it was good or bad, I wasn't sure, but it definitely felt creepy. "You think I'm like you?" I was hesitant to nod, but I did. "…Then make sure we don't turn out the same." He said, his smirk having fallen from his lips. His eyes fell from mine, and he turned back around in his seat.

I was slightly shocked. _What does that mean?_ I inquired to myself, and as always, I analyzed every word. _I don't understand…What could he…Hmm. Does he mean that he thinks we're the same too? Or perhaps he means that he just doesn't want me to be consumed with anger like he is, or at least seems to be…but wait…_My eyes widened. _That would mean…he's actually _worried_ about me. But why…why would he be worried at all when he barely even knows me? _I was such a critical thinker. I deliberated strenuously from one interpretation to the next, until one came to mind and stomped me completely. It was the only one that made his words even vaguely make any sense to me.

_Perhaps, _I was second guessing myself…_but perhaps he's just as curious about _me…_as I am about him._ It was a longshot, but it wasn't impossible, was it? I mean, it only made sense if he was actually worried. It seemed to correlate in a way. I was worried about him when Jacob dislocated his arm, so I assumed it would be the same if he's as curious about me as I am about him. But then, the inquiry to that nearly implausible hypothesis would be: Why? What exactly is so interesting about me where it could make him even slightly curious about the kind of person I am? I mean, my life wasn't a mystery. It wasn't shrouded with a thousand and one questions. I wasn't terrifying, and I didn't really hide my emotions. Not all the time at least. My life was nothing like his, nothing special, so what could be so bloody alluring about my character?

And just like that, the most logical interpretation I could come up with was shattered, and his words no longer made any sense to me. _Ugh! Maybe I'm just overthinking it…It probably doesn't even mean anything._ I sighed and lowered my head to my chest, my eyes running over the small device in my hands again. _Oh crap! Jacob!_ I remembered.

"Over here." I looked back over to Paul when he spoke, and saw him pointing towards the toppled rolling chair. "Get the chair."

"Wh-what?" I asked, confused. _Did he still want to…_"I thought you said it was over?"

"You're the only way I'm getting' back on the team, so hurry up and get over here." He answered.

"Oh…" I said dumbly. "Okay."

I spent ten minutes on the phone placating my soon-to-be brother in law as he screamed about how I was supposed to have called him twenty minutes ago and then how he was thinking about calling the police and all this and that about the lie he had to tell Leah, and how he didn't like lying and so on and so forth. I had managed to convince him that I was fine and I apologized to him a thousand and one times before asking Paul where we were and letting Jacob know.

"Yeah, yeah. Alright." Jacob breathed through the phone. He had finally stopped his anxiety attack. "I'll be there at 8:30 to come and get you, okay?"

"Okay." I answered.

"You do know that Leah is going to kill me for this, don't you?"

"Nah. I think your excuse was pretty valid." He snorted.

"You're not the only one she can see through, you know? She's able to see through _everything_!" I wasn't going to argue that point, because it very much seemed like she could. So I just hummed my reply, unable to say anything more. "Eh, whatever. I'll be over at 8:30."

"Okay. See you then." Then the line died, and I turned back to Paul as we were both once again settled by the artistry canvas. "Ready?" I asked, clicking through the many selections on his phone for the timer app. He just grunted and shrugged his shoulders.

"Whatever."

I hummed softly. "Go." And as soon as I pressed the button for the timer to start, I saw how Paul's head immediately bowed towards the page, and how the motions of his pencil moved fluently over the paper. It was the first time I ever saw him do actual work before, and I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly to myself.

_They say he's a delinquent…_I thought, staring intently at the proclaimed "delinquent" boy beside me…_but I don't think he is._ I paused my thoughts, and sighed what felt like relief. _He's just completely misunderstood…a total enigma to the world. But in all honesty…_I looked down at what (used to be) his dislocated arm, which was now stroking the head of his pencil across the paper, marking it frantically, and I couldn't help but smile to myself. _But in all honesty…he's not really that bad at all. And now that I look at him…_His face was concentrated, his brown eyes soft, pinched cheekbones and a bottom lip that kept being sucked between his teeth in thought._ Looking at him now, he's actually—_I chuckled out loud at the thought.

"What?" Paul asked me, and I turned away from him, smiling.

"Nothing…I was just thinking." Then I turned back to him, serious, as he continued to stare at me. "Keep writing. You only have fifteen minutes." He turned his attention back down to his task and ran his pencil across the page, and again, I smiled to myself.

I hadn't noticed that my heart had skipped a beat at merely the thought of being this close to him for the next fifteen minutes. _Now that I look at him, he's actually kind of cute. I mean, if you like the whole tough bad boy look…_I snickered softly, and I saw Paul's eyes shifted to me before going back to work…_ but I truthfully don't think that's the kind of guy that I'd be into._

I turned away from him again, and a small smile curved my lips.

* * *

**Well here's the last update for the summer. But who knows…if I get enough reviews, I could try to post another one sooner rather than later. XD lol That sounds like a bribe, doesn't it? Haha! That's because it is. Lol**

**But yes. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and story so far, and I'll try to post the next chapter as soon as possible, but don't forget to review, even all those who are just reading and adding to favorites…you must review too. **

**Until next time (depending on those reviews) I'll see you all later. Ciao for now though lovelies'! ^_^**


	16. Call In The Middle

**Call in the Middle**

**Why did you change?**

_**- November 18th**_

_**8:40pm **_

The remainder of my time with Paul was spent with him completing his work and with me checking over it and offering advice when I thought it was appropriate. To my surprise, when I read over his first paper I was expecting for there to be a ton of errors that I wouldn't even know where to start, but there wasn't. The most was perhaps five or six errors. He wrote really well…to be a "delinquent" that is.

Jacob had stuck to his word and had arrived outside Paul's home at 8:30—_sharp!_ I wanted to laugh because it only showed just how worried he was, but then again I had no place to. After all, he was really distraught about the whole idea from the beginning.

As soon as I got to the car after waving goodbye to Paul and receiving his grunt of a reply before he disappeared back behind his front door, Jacob had randomly whipped out a flashlight and frantically inspected me all over. After he finally decided that I wasn't harmed in anyway, which I had told him multiple times beforehand, he pulled me into a backbreaking hug and repeatedly muttered prayers of relief.

I laughed then.

He pulled away from me, ruffled my hair and told me to get in. I did. Then we were off, flying up the streets, my heart pounding manically in my chest, and I remembered wondering who exactly it was that taught him and Leah how to drive anyways. They were like fucking bats out of hell with the way they sped up and down side streets. But I was glad that we at least didn't have to take any highways to get home, because I honestly believed I would've pissed myself.

But after he was bored with driving like a lunatic and we were yielded at a red light, he grumbled, and I turned to him. He had been doing it for the past ten minutes since we left Paul's house, and he kept shifting in his seat…indecisive-like.

"Jake, are you okay?" I finally asked, watching as his eyes were tamed on the fluorescent red traffic light. He hummed quizzically and turned to look me in the eye briefly before his focus was back on the road.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He lied, and I gave him a look that he didn't notice, basically telling him that I knew he wasn't okay. It was rather obvious to tell when Jacob was trying to hide something. He would fidget nervously with whatever he could get his hands on, and right then his fingers were drumming an imaginary beat over the steering wheel.

He was as obvious as me when I lied and couldn't look people in the eye afterwards, but I think his was a lot more noticeable than mine. "Why do you ask?" He inquired back to me.

"Because you've been bouncing in your seat, and grumbling since you came to pick me up…and plus…you're fidgeting again," and as if just then realizing that he was indeed tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel, he stopped, and glared down at his deceptive digits.

"Damn," he cursed under his breath. The habit had always given him away, and I bet he was glad that he was on the phone with Leah opposed to being face-to-face with her, otherwise I was sure that he wouldn't have been able to persuade her that he and I only went to go "talk" and grab a bite to eat.

He sighed wearily. "Yeah…" he drawled, the light turned green, and he accelerated at a mild pace as he spoke, his eyes obstinately concentrated on the road. "I was just thinking…"

"…About?" I goaded after he didn't elucidate. I shifted in my seat, waiting, and my feet kicking against the school bag between my legs on the floor.

He grumbled again. "…about you…and Paul, I guess." I waited silently for him to continue, and eventually he did after a minute or so, his voice resounding in a causal tone as if asking about the weather. "What happened tonight between you two?"

I shook my head although his eyes were glued to the road, muttering a simple "Nothing". Then I told him everything that happened from when I fell asleep in Paul's car, to him having to carry me to his bed, and to me tutoring him and reading over his essays. I left out the whole me-going-through-his-stuff part out, as well as all the yelling and confusion on my part that came subsequent to it. I didn't think it was important enough…not to him anyways. Besides, it would've probably just given him a reason to have a real heart attack.

"After I read his last paper you pulled up and blew the horn, and that was it." I finished. I was currently looking out the window at that time, and decided to turn back to his side profile with a suspicious expression marring my visage. "Why do _you_ ask?" I asked skeptically. "I had already told you what I was going to do…what? You don't trust me or—"

"No, I trust you!" He corrected me before I could even finish the inquiry. Then there was a bead of silence, until, "It's just that…" He sighed. "_He__'__s_ the one I don't trust… and I'm kind of…like—shocked!" I noted his face pinch in contemplation, "I guess that's the right word."

I studied his thoughtful countenance for only a moment longer before looking back out the passenger's window. "…because I'm not all beat up…right?" I heard his breath hitch, and from his reflection in the window, which mirrored his every action, I noted him turn to look at me for only a brief moment. Then I looked back to him, our eyes meeting. "Didn't you believe me when I said I would be okay?"

His eyes flew back to the task at hand. "It's not that I didn't believe you, it's just that—"

"You didn't trust me, right?" I obliged for him. "I promised you that I'd be okay." I stated monotone.

"And I let you go," he retorted, not exactly angrily, but not calmly either. "But c'mon Seth, be realistic, you cannot just expect me to be _okay_ with the fact that I _did_ let you go with someone who has terrorized you since you and Leah moved into the city. I trust you but—"

"Then why are you acting so…" I didn't know how he was acting, but neither did I get a chance to deliberate over it, because the next thing I knew was that he made a sharp turn from the middle lane over to the right curb, the entire right side of my body smashed against the door, and he slammed down on the brakes.

I had to catch myself on the dashboard. I turned to him, my eyes wide, my heart pounding and my head whirling. "What the hell—"

"Why are you doing that?" He asked abrupt, staring questionably into my eyes. I noticed that the stick-shift was jammed into Park, and that his headlights had been switched off.

"Why am I doing _what_?" I inquired more harshly then what was necessary, but my adrenaline was rushing faster than normal, and I had to recollect myself. He just studied me with his eyes as I gathered my thoughts and settled my palpitating and rapid heartbeats. "What are you talking about?" I asked, composed now.

He continued to speculate in silence, the nightly skies partially illuminating his pensive expression. He turned off the car. "…Why are you sticking up for him? Making excuses for him all of a sudden?"

I furrowed my brows. "For who?"

"Paul."

It took me a while to register the name that had just fallen past his lips.

"…Wh-what?" My voice portrayed my astonishment.

I wasn't sticking up for him. We weren't even _talking_ about him. Were we? What in the world was he talking about? "I'm not doing anything." I pushed myself upright from the dashboard.

"Yes you are." He stated blatantly and without reluctance. His eyes continued to scrutinize and search my countenance almost expectantly.

"No I'm not!" I glared. My brows furrowed harder, creases lumped the skin over my forehead. I looked away from him and out the windshield. He didn't say anything, but I could perceive him staring at me and gauging perceptively from my peripheral.

We just sat in a round of suspended silence, breathing. Then he said something that threw me off completely, knocking me off guard, and it actually pissed me off. "…Paul's a monster." He said, almost experimentally, but also with rigorous conviction.

My attention snapped back to him, a glower settled into the contours of my visage. What he had said threw me off, but how I replied and reacted to it was even more surprising to not only him, but most of all to me.

"No he isn't! He's just like me, and you don't know _anything_ about him. No one does!" I was shouting. I was angry. I definitely was angry. I hadn't realized it though, not until the words escaped past my lips in a hurried breath, and the aftereffects of my yelling slightly burned in the back of my throat.

I gasped softly to myself when my words finally registered in my head, and my eyes slightly widened, flabbergasted. _Did__I__…__really__just__say__that?_

"You just did it again!" His voice rose with the allegation. "…Any other time you would've agreed or said nothing at all when _anyone_ mentioned any of _them_! But now you're all defensive about it!" Now he was shouting back at me. "Seth, what the hell happened between you two…and you better not tell me nothing happened, because so help me, I swear, I'll tell Leah everything and have us both killed."

I was still shocked from my earlier reaction, and it took me a while to register Jacob's words and irritation. "Seth!" He called warningly, and I blinked from my daze. "Tell me. Right now. What did he do to you?" I stiffly shook my head.

"Nothing," I answered hoarsely, and cleared my throat. "He didn't do anything to me. I mean…" I sighed. "I don't know what happened." I respired.

Jacob snarled. He was beginning to do that a lot lately, or perhaps it was just to me. "Don't give me that crap! Tell me what's up, right now." His tone was like he was scolding a child as his face was contorted in a piqued expression.

"I'm telling you the truth!" I cried, and I was. I honestly didn't know what was happening to me. Jake was right. I would never be so defensive for any of _them_. But in my defense though, I hadn't even realized I was justifying Paul at all until he pointed it out. "…I really don't know why…I just…did."

He grunted and turned back in his seat to face the road, and turned the key in the ignition, restarting the ragged cough of his truck. "I don't know what you're not telling me Seth," I was going to say something but then he shook his head disappointedly and I quieted, "but I never knew you'd be one to lie to me about anything. It's okay to be scared…I won't let him touch you."

"I'm _not_ lying Jake!" I shouted again. My voice sounded desperate. I wanted him to believe me. He cut his eyes to me for only a quick second before he shifted the truck into Drive. "…nothing happened." I breathed meekly. It was obvious that he wasn't convinced, but I couldn't blame him. I couldn't even convince _myself_ that nothing really happened, let alone try and persuade someone else.

_But nothing happened…_

"It's okay, because eventually everything's going to come out," he said ascertain. "But it's almost nine o'clock and I need to get you home." I was speechless. There was just nothing more that I could say. It wasn't that I didn't want to protest, but I couldn't.

_But __nothing __happened._ I endeavored to assure again. I didn't believe I didn't know why. "Seth," Jacob called softly, and I turned to him, watching as he stared out at the road. "I really hope you're telling me the truth…and nothing did happen between you two." I only stared at him, but then after short while, I turned and looked out the window.

It wasn't the truth. Little did I know then, I was just as ignorant as Jake was, because something had actually happened. It was just something neither Jake nor I would've ever expected. _Paul_. I felt my curiosity for him growing…

The rest of the ride home was ridden in immutable silence.

**X:~/~:X**

_**9:25pm**_

I shoved open the front door with my bag slung over my shoulder as I stormed in with Jake towed, two plastic bags with cartons of food in his hands as indication of us having "gone out to eat". I ignored Leah when she offered me her sisterly "Hey Seth", and briskly I moved around her before running off up the stairs two steps at a time. "Seth?" She called, puzzled, but I didn't stop until I reached my room and closed the door behind me.

I fell against the door, my grip on the handle being the only sanction barely keeping me on my feet. It was dark in my room, but I hadn't noticed the surrounding shadows immediately. My eyes perceived nothing at first. The only thing my mind focused on was the mile-a-minute thoughts that were racing through it.

I took a few unsteady breaths, and after my fourth breath I realized that my hand was trembling on the door handle, the loose handle crying metallically in my shaking grip. I swallowed and pushed away from it, stumbling awkwardly over to my bed.

I fell. I fell hard. I fell awkwardly before I could make it to my bed. I fell strangely on one knee and then the other. It hurt. It hurt badly to fall so hard. _God!_ I felt so confused, and damnit my knees hurt now too. I don't know why I felt confused.

_Seth, __shut __up __and __calm __down._ My conscious coaxed solacing. _And __stop __hyperventilating __before __you __blackout __again._ I hadn't even noticed I was hyperventilating. My chest was rising and falling unevenly. I've been hyperventilating a lot lately. I should probably invest in an inhaler.

_Get __up, __stop __whining __and __get __a __grip._ My conscious growled. Who the hell was I to talk to myself like that? I was really beginning to piss myself off...I listened though, and after another five minutes I was able to steady my laborious respiration, and climb on top of my bed.

I laid there, my mind still racing, yet not thinking of one relevant thought. It was another ten minutes until I felt my heart stop beating altogether and I turned my head to look out the window that was beside my bed. I loved the sky, the stars. My incessant thoughts ceased, and were immediately replaced with the word: infinite.

My entire body began to relax as I sank into the mattress. I sighed, subtly forlorn. My gaze wandered about the purplish black skies, and I wondered of the wonders the world held for me beyond the stars, beyond tonight, and before I realized it, my wonders of the cryptic sky turned into a dream that I would remember tomorrow and for the rest of my life. My wonders of what the sky held turned into the first ever dream where all I could dream of was Paul and I, together, at an altar.

I awoke in a cold sweat that night as I tried to escape that God awful nightmare.

I remembered that a few days after having that dream my father told me, "…dreams are God's gift to every human. They are our own special powers, our ability to see into the future. Dreams never lie son," he had laughed then. "I first married your mother in a dream, and wouldn't you know it, here we are now, twenty years later and I'm married to the woman of my dreams, literally."

"Dreams are not meant to frighten, so you have nothing to fear my son. Unless you decide to disobey the path that God has paved for you. He has given you a glimpse into your future, embrace it, love it, own it as yours, and it won't ever be taken away from you…"

After awaking, terrified, that same night of what I had once thought to be a God awful dream, I went back to sleep, and again I was marrying Paul, kissing him, loving it, and owning _him_ as mine (and wouldn't you know it, seven years later and he's still mine).

**X:~/~:X**

**-November 19th**

_**11:15am**_

Last night and the morning after had come and gone fast. Leah probed me the entire morning, concerned about my reaction toward her last night, but after we approached the school building and I still hadn't so much as budged an inch in telling her, she quitted her efforts, for now. I knew she'd try again later though, and I knew she'd figure everything out before I would like always.

Embry wasn't in first hour. He either didn't make it or hadn't shown up at all, but as second period ended, I noted my friend in our usual spot at lunch and I deduced he had just been late to class this morning.

When I sat down across from him, he didn't look up. I noticed that his eyes were still seemingly detached from reality, and I was provoked to say something about the matter by my hindered conscious. I didn't like this look in his eyes, nor the fact that it has been present for the past few days; noticeably forgotten or purposefully unattended to in a vain attempt to escape whatever cause that has affected him so severely.

I felt that I should've said something, but I didn't. I gave him the letter Jane had given to me yesterday, unopened. He tore the heart sticker off and read it silently, and I noticed that his expression didn't change in the least when he finished and put it down. "I need to talk to you, Seth." He said aloofly, his eyes still lowered to the table, yet to have met mine since I arrived.

I only respond with "okay" but not a single word afterwards was spoken between us for the rest of the hour. Jane and all of our usual classmates that joined us for lunch came and sat down. Jane's face tinted a light pink shade when she noted her letter on top of the table, torn open.

Conversation flowed smoothly around the table, and again Embry was a pretender, but the only difference about today was, so was I.

**X:~/~:X**

_**12:00pm**_

The bell signaling the end of the lunch period rang. By the time I said my farewells to everyone and that I'd see them all later on the corridors were nothing but a sea of green, black, white, and tan pants and shirts.

My vertical disability restricted me from seeing beyond the throng of students, save for Paul who stood at the other end of the hall, his towering height making it seem as though he were my beacon of light, my lighthouse amidst the sea of pandemonium.

I maneuvered around them all as best as I could. I endeavored getting to Mrs. Locke's class before the late bell resounded. I wasn't going to be late. I pulled and shoved my way through the chaos, only offering an amiable "excuse me" when I felt it fit and my smaller frame would squeeze between two equally big bodies of guys or girls.

While I sifted through the crowd of bodies I overheard a few murmurs of gossip. I hadn't been able to divulge all of their words clearly but I had perceived Edward and Jasper's name arise a few times and something about their long relationship and a home wrecker as I dodged this way and that from between a few different students.

Gossip. So much gossip. However, now that overheard it, I do vaguely recall, when I unintentionally eavesdropped on the friends at the other table at lunch, a few other students blather about Edward and Jasper and their relationship.

They were a popular couple amongst the student body. Not many, gay, straight or bisexual had a problem with their open relationship. They were a pleasant and attractive pair, so not many had a reason _not_ to like them. Not to mention the fact that they've been together since their freshmen year up until now. So, thinking about it, I suppose that it isn't too peculiar to overhear murmurs about the pair.

Finally I managed to shift past the last two guys and emerged at Mrs. Locke's door, slightly winded, I noted Paul's huge frame standing beside me, towering over me. Tentatively, my eyes traced him, all the way up to his set jaws, piercing eyes, and rough, flawless russet skin, and his plump red lips. I swallowed as images of my midnight dreams appeared before me.

_He __would __look __damn __good __in __a __tuxedo._I thought as I recalled Paul and I in front of the alter in my dream. His russet skin complimented his black and white suit well, too well. So well in fact, that, like nearly every morning, I awoke aroused, but this morning I had a reason. Paul looked damned sexy, and just reflecting on the thought was enough to make my loins twitch.

_You __do __realize __who __the __hell __you__'__re __talking __about, __right_? My conscious argued, incredulously. _You__'__re __talking __about __the __guy __who, __on __many __occasions __might __I __remind __you, __has __kicked __your __ass, __nearly __killed __Jake __and __have __caused __Leah __to __go __on __more __of __those __tirades __that __you __hate __so __much, __more __times __than __either __of __us __can __count__…__What __the __hell __is __you r__problem, __Seth_?

I nearly growled at my subconscious thoughts, but I was right. _It __was __only __a __dream, __and __plus __Paul_… "Hey." I said awkwardly, my thought unfinished, and my eyes lowered from his eyes. I didn't know if we were on "speaking" terms yet, so I wasn't sure if he'd say anything back or not, or if I had even had the right to speak to him or not.

He didn't speak though. He only gave me his famous grunt, but he didn't walk away. I looked up involuntarily and with uncertainty. My eyes ran over his body, discerning the small, black, collared uniform shirt he wore that clung tightly to the muscles defined over his chest and biceps.

"What?" He almost growled, and I tore away from his defined pecs and met the glower in his eyes as they stared down at me.

I lowered my gaze and shook my head. "Nothing." He hummed, and after a short while, which I again noticed that he didn't leave right away, he scoffed.

"You're shy for no reason." He said offhandedly, and turned away from me and sauntered through the doorway. My eyes followed after him. _What__does__that__mean_? I inquired to myself. I didn't know. It didn't matter. It would take too much to try and figure out if it did or didn't mean anything at all. Paul is still an enigma to me. One of which that gave me headaches just thinking about.

I sauntered in after him.

Mrs. Locke's class went smoothly to say the least. Of course she and Paul had their traditional spat, but it wasn't nearly as intense as times before, granted, things did still get pretty heated. However, not so much so that it had me looking at Paul as though he was a monster…evil…pointless…

I don't think I ever could anymore…not if he's like me. He can't be a monster if he's like me. He can only be lost. Lost in a cruel world that can't, or won't, accept him for who he really is. As outcasts, we don't just hate, we don't just cry, and we don't just love…there is a reason why. There is always a reason why we feel the way we do.

At the end of class, when it was just Mrs. Locke and I left in the room, she thanked me. "You're welcome." I told her. "I'm…actually glad I did it." I said under my breath as I walked out. I don't know if she heard what I said or not, but I had heard her call my name, but I didn't turn back, and I left.

**X:~/~:X**

_**1:25pm**_

I walked into Mr. Williamson's dark class, his projector set up as always and I noticed that neither Embry nor Alec was there. I took a seat in the back of the room and waited for them to show and take the seats on either side of me.

I was anxious. I could feel the nearly tangible sensation surround my insides. I couldn't help but reflect on Embry's words from earlier. The sullenness of his eyes matched his words and I had been thinking about what he'd said since he utter the words. They hurt me.

I had never heard Embry, not _my_ Embry sound so conflicted. Not when he was always so confident. I didn't know what the problem was, but I hoped it was something that I could help him fix.

Five minutes had passed since I arrived to Mr. Williamson's class, and now Alec sat in the seat beside me, but Embry's space remained unoccupied.

"Seth," Alec whispered while Mr. Williamson was preoccupied with teaching the class about the serfs of the Medieval Age. I looked up from my note taking and turned to him.

"Yeah?" I answered, uninterestedly. My eyes were lilied and I was half sleep while listening to Mr. Williamson's lecture.

"Embry asked me to tell you to meet him in the bathroom ten minutes after class starts." I lit up at the mention of Embry's name. My eyes awoke with my awareness. "I asked him why he wanted me to tell you, but he didn't tell me."

My mind disregarded Alec's typical desire to want to know "why" someone asked him of anything, and instead I focused on the glowing red numbers illuminating the automatic clock against the wall. I couldn't wait five more minutes.

My arm flew into the air for Mr. Williamson to see, but before he could even acknowledge me I blurted out what I wanted. "Mr. Williamson, may I go to the restroom?" I said hastily. I wanted to know what was up with Embry. At some point I felt that I needed to know, and some people might even deduce it to the conclusion that I was desperate to know.

"Grab the pass and go on." He replied monotonously without so much as glancing my way, but I did as he said and grabbed the pass from the ledge of the chalkboard and exited the room. Quickly I sashayed through the vacant vestibules and towards the piss stained bathroom which scent was slightly covered with the musky aroma of pine from the cleaning chemicals.

It was an odor that made one gag on their innards and burned their eyes until they were edged with tears.

I checked the bathroom on the third floor but Embry wasn't there. Perhaps it was because I was earlier than he told me to be, albeit only by about one or two minutes. Then I remembered a conversation Embry and I had once before and him telling me that he preferred the sixth floor restroom above all the others.

I don't know why, and I really didn't care when he was explain it to me. At the recollection though, I paced, swifter than before, up the hall and scaled the stairs until I reached the sixth floor—also the highest level of our school.

I walked into the bathroom and saw Embry sitting wistfully on the broken radiator, his feet dangling, and the window behind him set ajar. I remembered thinking of how the broken radiator, which is a symbol of warmth, or lack thereof for this matter, was broken and in which left the school cold and isolated from heat, like my Embry, in an autumn's chill.

"Em?" I approached him cautiously. He looked up at me, and the dark rings under his eyes were potent against his bronze skin. It frightened me a little.

"Hey." He smiled. He was trying at least. I stepped closer to him until I stood directly in front of him. "How ya been, Seth?" I didn't answer him right away, but eventually I did nod unsurely.

"Alright…I think." I made a motion to sit beside him and he inched over to make room for me. "What about you? It's been a while since we…you know, talked. You haven't been looking too good nowadays, you know." I could tell from the twitching muscles in his face that he was trying to keep smiling, but he failed quickly and turned away from me with a sigh.

"…yeah…" He was reluctant. I didn't press him though. An entire minute passed, and still our words were given to silence. The wind whirled outside, and the cold licked against my neck as it slivered in from the partly open window behind us.

I felt a shiver race down my spine and I turned to close the contraption, but I stopped when I suddenly, and strangely, felt compelled to not only keep the window open, but to open it as wide as it could go. It was a strange compulsion indeed, but I would be a fool to have kept that window open, the freezing air was nothing to me since I lived on the Reservation, and it almost felt like home, but Embry was beginning to visibly shiver, and I closed it.

Embry was massaging his forearms warm. "…things have been getting pretty bad." He finally began, and again took another long pause, but again I didn't press him to go on until he was ready. "I'm sure you heard about part of it by now."

"Heard of what?" I asked. He turned his desolated eyes onto me again.

"You haven't heard about it yet? Everyone is talking about it…I've actually been getting scolded pretty badly by nearly everyone because of it," he chuckled softly. "Oh well, you know, it's really not my fault, so I guess it can't be helped…"

"What isn't your fault? Em, what's happening?"

"You really don't know, Seth?" I shook my head. He sighed again and slouched over and looked between our four dangling feet. "…Jasper and Edward broke up," I gasped and Embry perceived me from the corner of his eye.

_What __the__…__Why __did __they__…_I was asking myself fragmented questions that I knew I didn't have the answers for, yet it all took me by surprise. I didn't know this had happened. _But __he __said __everyone __was __talking __about __it._ I gasped again when I realized that everyone had been talking about the couple today; at lunch, in the hallway, and now that I think about it hard enough, classmates in first period were talking about the pair _a __lot_ today.

_Embry __wasn__'__t __in __first __period __today__…__maybe __this __was __why._ Things were starting to come together, just to fall apart again. _But __what __does __he __have __to __do __with __them_? I thought. "What happened?" I asked. "Do you know?"

He nodded and sat up straight before leaning against the closed window. "Yeah, I know. Jasper said he was bored, he said that he and Edward weren't what they used to be, that he wanted more, and that he wanted—needed a change. He said he'd been looking for someone, but kept Ed just in case he couldn't find anyone…" My eyes widened at Jasper's potential manipulation of his boyfriend—or rather _ex-_boyfriend.

"How-How do you know all of this, Em?"

He didn't answer my question, instead he continued on with his explanation. "…He said he found someone, someone he liked a lot since they first met each other—"

"Em, how do you—"

"Because Seth, they broke up because of _me_…Jasper left Edward _for __me_." If my life wasn't a soap opera then I didn't know what the hell it had turned into at this point. So much drama. So much gossip. I gasped again, but this time I kept my mouth shut until he finished. "He said that since he met me his feelings for Edward have been going away, fast. Until eventually they couldn't even look at each other without wish that the other was someone else."

I believed all of it, because the entire time I couldn't help but reminisce on the look of despair in Edward's eyes when we all went on our double date. I turned to Embry. Edward's look of despair was similar to Embry's…but Embry's looked so much worse, as if Jasper and Edward wasn't the only problem he'd been enduring for these past few days.

Embry jumped down from the busted radiator and stalked numbly over to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. I noticed him cringe away from his reflection. "I didn't want it to happen, Seth. I really didn't mean for it to happen, but it did." The only thing missing from this soap opera was a floor flooding with Embry's tears.

He shed none.

"Em, what are you talking about? You didn't mean for what to happen?"

"_This _Seth!" He shouted at me, throwing his arms in the air dramatically. "All of this. This entire mess. I'm the cause of it. I'm in the middle of this whole thing and I never meant for it to happen! Seth, I didn't. It just all happened overnight and I don't know how the hell everyone else found out, and everything everyone is saying is a lie! They're all saying I kissed him and we fucked in his bed! What the hell, Seth! I wouldn't do that, _you __know__I_ wouldn't do something like that to anyone!"

I couldn't say anything, or do anything but sit, watch and listen to him scream. "I didn't do anything! _He__'__s_ the one who kissed me in the bathroom, and _he__'__s_ the one that was trying to fuck me against the sink! Damnit, I literally had to punch him in his fucking face _just_ to get him off me, but now I'm the one that's being called this and that and am the one who's a jealous slut for breaking them up. _Goddamnit!_ It wasn't my fucking fault!"

"Em—"

"I promised him that I wasn't going to tell Ed about any of it." He said softly, but then his eyes turned into daggers and he glared at me without warning as though I was the one who pissed him off. Truthfully, I was kind of scared for myself. "I _fucking __promised_, Seth…he looked at me like I disgusted him afterwards and you want to know what he told me, he said: 'I don't give a fuck if you tell _him_ or anyone else, because regardless if he knows or not, I'm gonna fuck the _shit_ out you. You must not know how much I want to do to you, or how long I've wanted you…The more you stayed around that little kid the more I've wanted you…so you can go tell Edward whatever you like, just know that you are mine and mine alone, and if you let that little bitch out there touch you again', he was talking about you Seth, and then he said: 'I swear to fucking God I will kick his ass! Your ass is for my dick and my dick only!' That's what he said to me, yet I'm the one who he and everyone else looks at like I'm fucking disgusting!"

I was really lost. I jumped down from the radiator and walked over to Embry was slouched over the sink, his hand s on the edge to keep him steady. I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Em, don't worry about any of that." In the blink of an eye he slapped my hand away, hard. It was red and stinging, and he glared at me harder as he stood up straight.

"How? How can I not worry about this? This is my life and you're telling me to just say fuck it. Well that might work for you, but it doesn't help me any."

"That's not what I meant." I said. My voice was surprisingly soft as if caressing his temper, placating it slowly. It was working, because slowly, but surely, his glare began to waver from his features and he was left just staring at me. Without his glare to contort his face, he just looked hurt. He looked hurt and vulnerable.

"I'm ruining everything for everyone, Seth, and I don't know why. First it's Edward and now it's my parents."

"Your parents? What's wrong with them? Are they okay?" I was genuinely concerned. I liked Mr. and Mrs. Call. They knew of their son's preference and mine, and they accepted him and me with open arms. I was their adopted son and they took me in and treated me as such.

Embry shook his head though, and I noticed tears glossing his eyes. "No. They're not…They're getting a divorce." My eyes widened, my jaw dropped and my heart sank to my toes. I felt my lips trembling and air escaping my chest a lot quicker than I could breathe in.

"Wh-what?" I felt lightheaded and nauseous. They were like my parents for two years, and it almost felt like my very own parents were getting a divorce, but then I remembered Embry and that it was really his _actual_ parents that were getting a divorce. I sucked up my shock and forced my heart to cooperate for him. "Em…" but I didn't know what to say…

"There is nothing you can say about it, Seth." His eyes were glossed with tears, but his voice was solid until he said, "it's my own fault," and he exhaled shakily. "They're getting a divorce because of me. _Damnit_!" He cracked the mirror with his fist, and shards of glass cut into his skin, but he didn't seem to care as he cried silently. "Why am I constantly tearing people apart?"

"It's not your fault." I tried to explain and again placed my hand on his shoulder, but again he slapped it away, and he and I both winced when his glass-torn hand smacked mine. He cut me and a trickle of my own blood seeped from my palm and down my forearm.

"Yes it is! Don't you see it, it's my fault! It's _my_ fault because I am this way. I'm just a fuck up! My dad even said it himself." His cries sounded strained when he elicited his last words, as though he felt betrayed. I, again, was awestricken in terror. "He said it Seth. I heard him say it." I was stunned in place as I noted Embry's eyes quivering, pleading me to say something, anything that could help him.

"Don't worry—"

"Don't fucking tell me _not_ to worry about it anymore, Seth!" His eyes were red, puffed and I could feel his heartbreaking in my chest as though it were my own. I knew it had to be so much to take on. To know that at school people were beginning to practically hate him for Jasper's feelings for him which was completely out of his control, and then on top of it he couldn't go home to a safe haven where everything was peaceful and serene, because it wasn't. "Just don't say it anymore," his entire body was shaking and tears were streaming from him, "because I can't help but worry, Seth." He tried wiping his eyes with his capable hand, but more tears only fell in their place. "I can't fucking help it."

"I'm sorry Embry. I just…I just don't know what else to say!" I yelled, and just watching him cry started to make me cry too. "Please stop crying, Em." I don't know why I said that. It was a stupid thing to say, but I really didn't know what to do and my own tears started to fall faster because of my helplessness. "I wish you would've told me all of this sooner!"

"What could you have done?" I didn't know. "What could anyone have done about it?" Nothing really I guessed. He sniffed and tried to recompose himself, but he failed with the next words he uttered. "He said it was my fault, Seth." He said them softly, precisely and delicate as though the words themselves would break him in half…again.

"I know." I replied just as soft.

His body was shaking again and he closed his eyes and balled his fist. "He told my mom…he said to her: 'If it wasn't for you, our son wouldn't be what he is. He wouldn't be a fucking faggot and he'd actually want to be around me more often and he'd stop wanting to hang around that other little gay boyfriend of his,' he was talking about you. Then he said: 'Why the hell would you let him go out on a date with four other _faggots_…_bitch_ are you trying to get my son killed out there? _Shit_! If he wasn't fucking gay I wouldn't have to worry so goddamn much. But that gay shit comes from your side of the family…it hasn't been one faggot in our family until I met your ass and we had him…Man, I can't _take_ this shit anymore!'"

I stood mortified. My eyes wide. I didn't believe that. I couldn't believe that. I didn't believe his father said that, not Mr. Call. Not the man that talked to me for an entire hour about boys even though he himself wasn't really interested in the topic of discussion at all. Not the man that, when Embry told both him and his mother that he had a crush on me, who smiled and laughed so cheerfully when I blushed and my face turned scarlet. That man wasn't the one who said that. It couldn't have been him. Embry must have heard wrong.

"Embry—" but before I could make the allegation against him, Embry cut me off.

"Seth, I don't know what to do. I don't have anyone else," and just like that, my allegation evaporated and I pulled him against me in a hug. He didn't resist me, but his body did collapse onto the floor and I fell with him, still holding on to him in my arms as he wept into my shirt. I had stopped crying for him and held his tightly against me, unable to say anything more.

I didn't know what else to say. There was nothing else to say. Both of his worlds were shattered in an instant and all because he agreed to go on a date with me. Maybe this isn't his fault as much as it was my own. It was because of me that Jasper wanted him so badly. I was basically provoking Jasper to claim Embry as soon as he could. And it was my fault his father was too stressed to deal with the whole gay thing, because Embry liked me.

It was my fault. All of it. Not his. But I didn't tell him that. I doubted that he'd have listened or believed me if I had told him. Instead I just let him cry, pull my shirt and hide his face against my chest for as long as he liked, and I held him tighter against me when his cries became louder.

Both of his worlds…shattered. _It__'__s __not __your __fault __Embry. __It__'__s __not __your __fault__…__Just __give __me __all __of __your __pain__…__I__'__ll __be __burdened __with __it __so __you __won__'__t __have __to __be._ I squeezed him against me and closed my eyes. I'll hurt so you won't have too…

…_just give me all of it…_

**X:~/~:X**

Highschool was a bitch. But the worst thing about it all, was: I was still only a sophomore at the time that my life had been turned upside down and I was thrust into that hurricane I had mentioned earlier.

But what makes things even _worse_ than _that_, is that I felt so weighed down by so many others and their pains, that I would soon be completely drained, broken, and ragged. I hadn't even realized it then, but I had yet to come across the one person whose pain would be so much to bear that it would tear me a part from the inside out. This person's pain would devour me whole, and he would take my heart into his hands, crush it, just to put it back together again.

I wouldn't even be able to believe it that day, the day that I held Embry to my chest and let him cry for the rest of the hour into my shirt, but these awful times were just the harsh winds before the storm. The actual hurricane himself had yet to come.

I pushed away from my laptop.

I needed a break…

* * *

**Alright. So, here it is! It is a lot longer than I thought it would've been, but you know, you all deserve it. I apologize for the long long wait, but I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will try to find time to write a bit more, but college is right around the corner so I have to get ready for that first. :)**

**Oh, won't you all review. If you do, I swear I'll make it worth your while. ;)**

…**with another chapter of course. Lol! XD**

—**A/N: BETA DESPERATELY NEEDED— (I'm unable to do it myself nowadays with my busy schedule, so I would really appreciate whomever can volunteer to help. Thanks!)**


	17. Only the Caged Knows

**Only the Caged Knows**

**Why did you change?**

- **_November 19th _**

**_2:35pm _**

I sat in class with Jane, distraught and disbelief still weighing heavily on my body. I felt drained of my energy. I still couldn't believe that Embry's parents were getting a divorce. I still couldn't believe that Embry had been holding something like that inside of him for so long and that I was the last to find out about it all.

_Was I a good friend?_ I remembered, questioning myself again. My conscience immediately affirmed the inquiry, but I still couldn't believe it. _Then why was I the last to find out about all of this…I mean the divorce I_ s_uppose no one else knows about, but all this mess with Jasper and Edward? Why hadn't I realized it all sooner?_ My conscience didn't answer right away and after a while, I figured that it wasn't going to answer at all.

As usual, it left me on my own when I needed it most. "Seth?" Jane called. Damnit! I wasn't in the mood for her. I was too exhausted to feel my normal hatred towards her, let alone hide it from her. So I did the only logical thing I could do. I ignored her. "Seth?" It was probably—no, it_ was_ rude, but I really didn't care. She probably wouldn't want to be my friend anymore afterwards, but I didn't care about that either. Hell, I welcomed it.

I had no explanation as to why I disliked her so much, but after the emotional rollercoaster that I had just been through, feeling the pieces inside of me slowly falling apart, I felt that I had the right to act _any_ way I wanted to.

"Seth?" I continued to ignore her as best I could. "Seth?" I wouldn't look at her. I wouldn't. I refused. But judging from the demurred sigh I perceive resounded from her, I assumed that she had been looking at me and had now turned away in defeat.

"…I didn't know, Seth." My gaze fell onto her then and I immediately noted that her eyes were focused on the floor for something to ameliorate her obvious…suffering? Was she suffering? Did she honestly even know the meaning of the word? From what I knew, she and Alec were always given everything from their father and never went without anything they wanted. How could she be suffering when all she could ever want is right in the palm of her hands? All she had to do was ask for it. How could she know the meaning of suffering? How could she _truly_ understand the meaning?

She didn't.

She couldn't.

She never would.

I was nearly provoked to ask what she had meant, but I didn't. She had turned her eyes back onto me and our eyes met; my almond orbs reflected my confliction and emotional exhaustion in her black orbs that were at their brink with grief.

"I didn't know Embry…I mean, if what everyone says is true…" I averted my eyes elsewhere. I already knew where this was going. "Embry …he's gay…isn't he?" I knew the question was coming, but surprisingly, despite the conviction of hurt in her tone, I couldn't feel any sympathy for her. I just, truthfully, as horrible as it sounded, did not care about her feelings. I just didn't, and I didn't understand why I didn't.

Why did I hate her so much?

Is this what hate felt like?

I didn't like how it felt. I didn't like it at all. I didn't want it. I wanted it to stop, but it wouldn't, because even when she asked me, "Why didn't you tell me?" I couldn't bring myself to be subtle or care enough for her feelings to sugarcoat anything. I spoke without even realizing the words had spilled from me until they had already left my lips and resonated through her ears.

"Because it was obvious. How could you not see it? I am too, in case you had any questions...and Jane…Embry likes me. Not you. Me." I watched as her eyes edged with tears more and more after each phrase I spoke. By the time I was finished I noted that my eyes were widened in disbelief but my nonchalance hadn't dissipated. I couldn't bring myself to even remotely care, but I knew that I had gone too far with what I said.

_Why_? My conscience had asked me. _Why are you acting this way_? I didn't answer it. I couldn't. I didn't know why, but I really wanted this feeling to go away. Damnit I was just so fed up with things. It was just one thing after another. I just wanted a fucking break from it all.

I gnashed my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut. It assuaged nothing, and I opened my eyes. I blinked. Jane was crying. She was sobbing actually and sniffling softly. Only I heard and noticed her apparently. No one else even bothered to turn to look her way or intervene within the situation.

I wished I could have comforted her. I wanted to so bad, but I couldn't. My body wouldn't allow it. I had, all of a sudden, forgotten how to apologize, how to softly coo and solace her qualms. What was I supposed to do? I didn't know what to do anymore, but I did know that I needed to get out.

Out? Out of where though? Hell, I really didn't know. Too much was happening at once. There were too many thoughts, too many worries raking my brain to get out. I couldn't stay in this classroom or this school anymore. There was far too much going on; too many emotional conflictions stirring inside of me, too many emotional breakdowns all around me, there was too much of everything and not enough of _nothing _going on. I felt trapped inside of myself.

I just wanted it all to _stop!_

I started to grind my teeth. My head was starting to hurt. It was too much to deal with, too much to handle on my own. Abruptly I shot out of my chair, rocking the desk by the blinding motion, and without a word I nimbly ambled out the room. I heard Ms. Bell, my Earth Science teacher, calling out to me, but ignored her. I knew she was going to come out after me, and then give me a lecture on disturbance, so I ran.

I ran. I ran. I ran quickly down the hall, my eyes shut tight and my head pulsing angrily. Somewhere inside of me, I could still hear Jane's subtle sniffling, but I tried to shove it away. I was already troubled by enough. My mind wandered to Embry as my body wandered aimlessly; swiftly up and down corridors and stairs.

I lost myself in my thoughts, and consequentially, to my growing hatred.

**X~/~X**

**_- 3:00pm _**

I had finally opened my eyes and noticed that I was now on the first floor even though my Earth Science class was on the fourth floor. My body had aimlessly carried me to my locker on the first floor even though my eyes were closed. I could only see darkness as I ran and glided down the steps. How I did it, I'm not even certain.

I felt a sharp pain pulsate against my temple. Reflexively, I groaned and cradled my head in my hands before I stumbled and fell against the locker next to mine. It hurt so badly. It hurt to hold so many emotions inside at once. But I didn't get it. Why my head? Why was my head hurting? Why were my feelings conflicting with my head? _God_! It hurt so fucking bad. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and elicited a silent moan when another stinging pain pulsed through my temple.

I slid down the metal locker and onto my ass, my head still cradled in my hands. "Ahh!" I had screamed into the barren vestibule, only to hear my pained echo scream back at me. It became softer and softer, as if to taunt me. "Stop it…stop!..._Stop_!" I lamented, and it seemed that my pain had heard the demand, because in an instant, it all stopped.

I sat completely still for a moment until I was convinced that it had actually stopped and wasn't coming back. It didn't and I sighed, relieved before melting against the metal supporting my back. I breathed evenly and deeply to sooth the aftereffects of my subsiding panic.

_God…what is going on_? I couldn't help but ask myself, but to ask _Him_. This entire week had been some serious shit. First I get beaten up by Mike and Garrett, then Leah trips out and goes on her hell raising tirade, then Edward's depression surpassed all of living hell, then Jacob nearly ripped Paul's arm from its socket and I was thrown around like paper weight, and then Paul…

I sighed deeply.

Paul…Well Paul was just an enigma to my very soul. I don't know what all _that_ was yesterday. I don't know what the hell happened. His every glare and scowl frightened me, yet, undeniably, enticed me. His every touch made my body tingle and quake. My body reacted to his; the warm and roughness of his skin. Then I had erupted into a maniac when I couldn't figure him out, which confused and delighted me all at once. Then after my outburst, I suddenly felt like I was drowning in him…drowning in his murderously golden eyes as he had me pinned to his bed…

However, that was far from being the most puzzling event that had happened yesterday night. When he turned to me with that sinfully atrocious smirk curving the bend of his lips, and said "…Then make sure we don't turn out the same." I was beyond lost.

Now that I pondered over everything, my purpose of being with him was pointless. Paul wrote well, incredibly well in fact. So I had really suffered and endured all of that confusion without valid reasoning. He could do the work, without a doubt he could do it all on his own, but he just chose not to for one reason or another that I didn't know about.

And then there was this entire catastrophe happening with Embry; Jasper's sexual advances and his parents divorcing. It was so much happening in this one week, but through it all, not one single thing has gone right for me. Not one.

I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my forehead against them. I didn't know what to do, what to think, or where to go, so I decided to just sit—still as a stone and quiet as a mouse.

"You look depressed as hell…" I would've laughed at the sudden and unexpectedness of the statement if it hadn't been so true. My earlier suspicions were confirmed at least. _We're on speaking terms now I guess_. I thought, and looked up at Paul, his stoic yet harsh tone unmistakable.

He stood as tall as ever with me seated so lowly. His hands were stuffed into his pockets—as usual— and his brows were furrowed and his eyes were slit, nearly closed, looking as though he were unimpressed by something…or me.

He scoffed.

"You look like shit." He said indifferently. Having disregarded his comment, I was surprised that I hadn't wavered away from his stare, albeit, it was probably because his eyes were slits and only half open.

"I needed to get out…" I had replied. My response made no sense to his perception of me looking like shit, but it was the only thing that came to mind. I turned away from him and looked down the hall at the front door. It was _right_ there. "I don't know where to go, but I need to get out of here." It was silent between us for a short while, my gaze focused on the air beyond those doors, while his, I assumed, were still focused on mine…maybe. I wasn't paying too much attention to him at this point.

I heard him hum though, softly and contemplative, then, in my peripheral, I noted him turn and begin walking away. I watched him walk. "…then let's go." I had gasped slightly and suddenly at the words that were so coolly thrown over his shoulder at me.

"W-what?" I inquired, befuddlement seizing my rationality as usual when it came to this misconceived enigma. He stopped, but didn't turn around.

"If you want ta leave," He drawled slowly, "then let's go." He turned so that I could see his profile. "I was leavin' anyways," and he continued his leisure saunter up the empty corridor before cutting a corner to go out the schools side door. The lock was busted, so the side door was always unlocked until it was chained closed after school hours.

I sat stilled, continuing to swim in my sea of quizzicality. _Did he just suggest that we hang out_? I asked myself, to which my conscience questioned: _Are you going to go with him_? I didn't have an immediate answer. Then I heard the revving of what could only be Paul's car engine.

_Go with him, _something persisted. It wasn't my own thoughts, and neither was it my conscience trying to persuade me. It was something else. Something that sounded softer and sweeter that goaded me. I didn't hesitate to act upon its edict. I moved almost automatically and raised myself up, and I languidly stalked down the hall.

I didn't grab anything or think to grab anything as my languid pace quickened into a mild saunter, and then into a meekly enticed amble. I cut the same corner Paul had and headed for the paint peeled side door. I moved over to Paul's red convertible and paused to think, and I only quitted when he revved his engine, his evident patience abrading. I got in.

I settled in. I watched as he shifted his gear to and from Drive to Park. He turned to me once he was done playing with his car gears and carelessly tossed his arm around the back of my seat as he looked at me with that same uninterested look from before. "Where ya tryna go?" He asked nonchalant.

"Um…I-I really don't know." _Ah. There you are Seth, you stuttering buffoon_. My conscience teased. I scowled mentally at myself. "I-I just had to get out of there, you know?" Such a ridiculous question to expect an answer to.

He only stared at me for a while. I noticed that he did that a lot. _What is he looking at…Is he looking for me to say something_? I avoided his gaze when I noted his slit eyes were beginning to open and reveal his devilishly, fear inducing, steely sienna eyes. He turned away from me and trained his eyes onto the road.

I glanced in his direction from my peripheral and saw the small smirk curving his lips. "Whatever." He jerked the gear into Drive and flayed from the lot, but not first without the flashy convertible's tires screaming against the ground and leaving its tracks to burn in the concrete.

**X~/~X**

**_- 3:20pm_**

Ten minutes had passed as I sat with Paul driving to god knows where. I figured that I might as well ask, but I made a conscious effort not to look his way seeing as though his eyes were now fully open as he drove, his murderous orbs focused on the world. Instead, I kept my attention glued to the road and other cars that passed us by and on the trees that blurred by us.

I shifted nervously in the seat. "So…where are we going?"

"The Spot." He curtly responded to my inquiry.

"The Spot?" I questioned. What was—and then it hit me, and my eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. _The Spot_. It was _their_ spot, where _they_ hung out. It was where _they_ went whenever they decided to ditch school early.

…_Much like we were doing now_. I reasoned. _Why would he want to take _me_ there_? If it was possible my eyes widened even more. _Were they all there now_?_ Was this all just a set-up to get me alone and then beat me_?_ Oh god! What did I get myself into?_

I looked to Paul from my side vision. "Yeah, The Spot. You gotta problem wit' tha'? I can always tak' you back to tha' place and you can jus' feel trapped inside of everythin' instead." I didn't want to go back, but I—_wait, what did he just say_? I asked myself as an afterthought.

_Did he just say "trapped"? How did he know what—_and then another thing hit me, _"I just had to get out of there, you know"_ I recalled myself asking him. _Then he smiled, _I thought_…just like he had yesterday when he asked if I thought we were alike._ I could feel myself going into my analytical habit. I was probably making something out of nothing as usual, but then again…

_Perhaps his smirks were his own way of affirming my questions. He said that I could "feel trapped inside of everything instead." I mean, there was just no other possible way for him to know that that was how I felt unless he had felt that way too. Maybe that's why he wasn't in class, and maybe that's why he had found me sitting in the hallway, because he had to just get out like I did, because like me, he felt trapped too._

Paul's mouth was moving and I could see it, but I couldn't comprehend the words coming from it. My mind was elsewhere as I continued to analyze his words. _That is the only explanation. That's how he knew that I felt trapped. And if I'm correct about that, then when he asked me if I thought we were both alike and he smirked, then, did that mean that he was affirming his own question. Did he think we were alike too? _I didn't know, but I was pretty positive about the first theory.

I blinked as I deserted the analytical side of my brain and returned back to reality. Immediately I heard Paul barking indignantly at me. Probably because I had been ignoring him. "Do ya want me ta jus' kick yo' ass out right here 'den! Shit, you can fuckin' walk back for all I give a damn!" He was glowering as he watched the road and I was smiling as I watched him watch the road so angrily.

I was genuinely smiling. I had just deciphered a piece to the very cryptic and enigmatic Paul Meraz. I was sure of it. "Fuck it then!" Suddenly the car jerked to the side, nearly smashing into another car whose horn blared.

It swerved awkwardly to avoid the collision.

Instantly my smile fell from my face and a surprised yelp escaped my lips as I braced myself, having forgotten to put on my seatbelt. I instinctively grabbed the dashboard to try and steady myself, but as quickly as the abrupt swerve occurred, it ended when Paul slammed onto the brakes and we both jerked forward and then back before slamming into our seats. He jammed the stick-shift into Park.

"Get ou' and walk back 'den!" He was glaring directly at me and I instantly felt small under his steeled stare. My body was contradicting itself. It was fueled with adrenaline from the sudden swerve, but also cowering and sinking into itself under the scrutiny of his gaze. It felt weird, and for a split second my mind went completely blank and I felt nothing until I decided to settle on fear instead of adrenaline, and I shrank in my seat, pressing myself against the door.

"Tha' hell are you waitin' fo'? Tha' goddamn red carpet? Jump tha' hell up ou' my seat!" I didn't. I wasn't going to get out. I couldn't even if I wanted to, for two reasons. Reason one was because he was still glaring at me with his insanely menacing eyes that paralyzed me in place. Reason two was because that voice from before, the softer and sweeter one, had come back and told me again to "Go with him" and again I felt compelled to obey it.

I wanted to go with him anyways, especially since I had finally figured out something about him. Paul finally looked away from me when a truck's horn blared at him for sitting on the side of the road. This distraction allowed me to partially regain some composure, and while I had it I answered, "No," but that was it because his eyes were back on me in the next second and his glower was buried deeper into his brow.

"Don't _fuck_ wit' me." He advised to me, and what very good advice it was. I opted to use it. I took a chance and tried to speak through my paralysis.

"I-I'm n-n-not," I managed to choke out. "I-I want t-to go…with you." He snarled and gave me a long, hard glare. It looked like he was sizing me up, and then he scoffed spitefully from his throat.

"Don't." He threw the shift into Drive. "It wouldn't en' well for you." And he drove off, our destination: _The Spot_.

**X~/~X**

**_- 3:35pm_**

It took another fifteen minutes before we arrived at _The Spot_ and parked in the lot across the street. Who would have guessed that _their _place to skip school and hang out was so far away? It took nearly half an hour to get here from the school.

Paul got out of the car first and closed the door behind him and I tentatively did the same. I wasn't familiar with this area. I looked around and noted that the block was rather busy. The entire block was like a mini-mall. It had stores that sold everything from clothes to stones—literally, one store sold what looked like rocks from a beach.

There was also a huge hill right at the end of the block with an equally huge tree sprouting from its center, almost like its source, like its protector. I vaguely wondered what the city would look like from the top of that mountainous mound. I wondered how the stars would look too, and I imagined how close I would be to them had I ever decided to lie atop that magnificent mountain under its sole protector.

The block was so lively, so enthralling and bright for it to be an autumns evening. It felt like spring. _Where are we_, I wondered but before I could voice the inquiry I noticed Paul padding across the street. I followed him and looked up at the sign that read: _The Spot_.

_Wow. It's actually called "The Spot". I just thought it was some cliché jargon people used._ I wasn't too impressed, but I entered after Paul anyways. As soon as I stepped through the door I heard and saw Paul being greeted by a brunette wearing a black apron with intricately sewn red and orange flames at the bottom. I moved and stood beside him. _Her eyes are beautiful!_ I had immediately thought about her, somewhat mesmerized by them.

The lady looked well over eighteen, maybe twenty-one or twenty-three perhaps.

"Good evening, Paul. It's nice to see you again." The russet athlete only grunted. He didn't even look her way. "Where is everyone else? You leave school alone again today?" The woman smiled, obviously teasing him. "Surely you can find better friends than that, Paulie." Paul glared at her. I assumed because of the nickname, or whatever "Paulie" was.

"That's such a nasty look baby. Stop it. I wouldn't want you to make that face and have it get stuck like that. I refuse to have our children to look so utterly hideous." I snickered lightly beside him. It was a little funny to me. Just a little. He glowered down at me and snarled softly. I stopped snickering.

The lady looked away from Paul and at me with those unnaturally beautiful eyes. "Oh I'm sorry little boy, I hadn't even noticed you standing there." She cleared her throat. "Good evening. My name is Heidi and welcome to—"

"Where tha' fuck we sittin' at?" Paul interrupted, fuming. He was noticeably seething. I didn't like that. I didn't like an upset Paul at all, especially not around me. Heidi, however, took no offense or heed to his rashness, and I conclusively supposed that was because she was used to it with how often the jocks skipped here. She ignored him, her eyes tamed stubbornly on me. Frightened, I eluded her gaze.

It took only a moment before those stunningly beautiful eyes began to look menacing. She looked like a predator about to stalk its prey before the fantastically skillful kill with the way her eyes were obstinately tamed upon me. I didn't like it. It was chilling my blood.

"Hmm?" I looked up briefly and noted that her head was cocked to the side, and her eyes look deliberative as she silently studied me. Then a sudden and eerie smile spread across her face. "You're a cute one." She said unexpectedly.

I felt my face heat up and I knew my cheeks were tinted pink. "Uh…T-thank you." She laughed.

"Aww. You're so adorable. You should—"

"_Shut tha' fuck up_ _an' jus' give us a damn seat_!" Paul exploded. He was reaching the very lengths of his patience. I could tell. His brows were furrowed tightly and the intensity of his glower was insurmountable…well, it was insurmountable for a second, until I saw Heidi's equally icy glare being reflected back at him. It was like a mirror of rage.

"And just _who the hell…_do you _think_ you're talking to, you fuckin' emo bastard?" _Now she's upset…just great._ I didn't want to see the outcome of this and I took two steps back just to give myself some space, in case any fights broke out.

"Alright, alright you two. Calm down." Sauntering casually down to the front door was a sandy blonde haired kid. From how boyish his facial features looked I guessed that he was probably around Paul's age, maybe a little younger, but definitely older than me. _He must work here too._ I thought when I perceived the apron, which was identical to Heidi's, loosely hung around his waist. "Can you two, for once, stop arguing? It's so fucking irritating."

Abruptly Heidi's entire demeanor shifted. She grinned through her menacing glare, the action rendering her ten times as feral as before. "Now Riley, why would you ask such a ridiculous question like that?" Her tone was playful, as though a visibly enraged Paul was not seething before her very eyes.

"When she layin' in a fuckin' coffin we jus' _might_ be able to." Paul sneered. His glared didn't falter from her.

Riley had sighed and shook his head. "C'mon Paul. I'll show you to your regular booth." Paul didn't follow him. I watched pensively from the sideline at Paul's scrunched and sullen visage.

"What's wrong Paulie?" Heidi smirked. "Aw. Are you upset? Was it something I said? It's okay baby. I'm sowry." An animalistic snarl fizzed from Paul's lips at her mockery and his fist balled at his sides. Before he could do anything or make a retort, Riley gripped his forearm.

"Dude, c'mon. You know she's just trying to piss you off. Let it go." Paul turned his glare onto the sandy blonde haired boy, and after a short while of presumably trying to intimidate him, he grunted and violently tore his arm from his grasp and walked to where I guessed his regular booth was.

Riley turned to Heidi, his brows furrowed. "Can you stop being a bitch for _once, damn_!" She only smiled and stared as he stalked off after Paul. I was left standing, alone and quite perplexed, but then the brunette's eyes met mine and I felt a shiver race down, then back up my spine before I hurriedly scurried off after the two others.

Paul was seated at the booth with Riley standing over him murmuring something inaudible until I slid into the seat across the table. "…a bitch." I came in on him saying. Neither of them seemed to have noticed me at the moment. "Anyways dude," the sandy blonde reached into his apron pocket and retrieved his order pad and pencil. "What'll it be? The usual?" Paul grunted, the scowl upon his visage deepening into the contours of his handsome face. Riley scribbled in his pad.

I don't know what evil possessed me, but as I watched Paul's menacing scowl and Riley's fancy scribbling, I blurted out "I don't have any money…" Riley's swift strokes paused mid-curve and his eyes shifted onto me.

"Ain't nobody forcin' you ta' eat!" Paul snapped veraciously, the once simmering fire in his eyes again reignited, and his blazing orbs glared into mine. My spine went slack in my back and I slouched in the cushioned seat and withered into the cushioned back support. "You ain't gotta git shit…"

My eyes quivered under his, and my skin crawled, my body trembling. I hated this. I hated that my body ceased to function every time his eyes were tamed upon me. I hated that I quaked from the intensity and that my heart pounded against my chest so hard. I hated how my body reacted to him. I wanted it to stop, to quit. It made me feel trapped by him, like I belonged to him. I hated it…I loathed it…felt it…felt him.

Stop. I wanted it to stop.

_Stop looking at me_. I told him, but he didn't.

_Stop it. You're scaring me._ The tender voice trembled. My brows furrowed in confusion, because, as though he could hear the voice himself, his eyes flashed briefly with what looked like…pain, a pain filled softness had enveloped him for only a splinter of a second before he looked away from me. My confusion had dissipated and I watched Paul in anticipation, slightly anticipating an apology.

"…you wanted two or one?" Riley inquired suddenly and my attention was drawn to him, who had a suspiciously small smile adorning his thin, pink lips. He was looking at Paul when he proposed the abrupt inquiry, and Paul grunted unflappably before strangely relaxing in his seat, falling back against the cushioned back support. "Gotcha. It'll be ready in a sec," the blonde said and sauntered off behind the bar counter and into the kitchen area.

With Riley absent I turned back to Paul, whose arms were folded defensively across his broad chest, his permanent scowl set in place, and his head cocked to the side as he stared attentively at the game on the television screen above and behind the bar counter. I didn't speak though, and neither did he. He continued watching whatever sport was on the screen while I continued to watch him watch it.

After a short while though I realized that he wasn't paying attention to me or he noticed me staring but opted to ignore me. Instead of staring analytically at him, again endeavoring to decipher more about him but failing miserably, I idly twisted my consideration elsewhere as I speculated the tavern that gave off the feel of a bar-like atmosphere.

The tavern was spacious. It had a bar with stools that were tacked and molded to the floorboards. All of the booths had cushioned seating, unlike the Pizza Pub that Embry and I went to on our double date, whose booths were hardwood oak. It had a few indiscriminate tables in the middle of the floor, seemingly haphazardly about the place; some were equipped with chairs while others were not, forcing the costumer to stand to eat or drink.

The walls were a dark color—a deep mahogany, or a midnight purple, almost black—covered in autographed pictures and other fanciful artworks; bands, instruments, bars, the Eiffel Tower—which one would think would seem out of place in such a tavern-like environment, but strangely the Eiffel Tower fit in perfectly with all the other paintings, pictures, and what-have-you.

The well-crafted saloon was also accessible to smokers who had their own section. Paul and I were in the non-smokers section. The smoker's area, from what I could see from where I sat, was so hazed in cigarette smoke that the ceiling was obscure and indiscernible. That room looked a lot darker. Although the parlor was dark and offered an almost inappropriately inebriating air about it, this time of day it was brightly lit with the sun fluorescence streaking through the huge glass windows.

The sun in this dark place was like a warm hug in winter, it felt needed otherwise one was drawn in by the temptation to sip on the liquor secure behind the counter, its potent stench upsetting my stomach. Or even, one would submit to the temptation to partake in the clouded haze infesting the other room, perhaps an itch surfaces to scratch their throat with a puff of relief. It was just so easy to submit in a place like this, but that stream of sun made it a bit easier to stave off the inducements.

I turned back to Paul after my careful speculation and he was still keenly enthralled by the television screen. His eyes reflected the game playing. I didn't understand myself. _How am I able to look at him without fear, but yet when he looks at me, I'm terrified? Maybe I'm just—_"Why you keep fuckin' starin' at me?" He had asked offhandedly, but he didn't bother to tear his gaze from the monitor. His tone wasn't harsh, well for Paul it wasn't…I don't think anyways. It didn't seem like it. It sounded…like a question…like a very unintentionally rude question.

I wasn't surprised that he asked, but just then, at that moment, it was unexpected. I was thinking and he interrupted. That's what I told him too. "I was thinking…" After a while when I didn't say anything else he turned to me, as if supposing me to say more.

"And?" He _had_ wanted me to say more. His eyes met mine. Those soft, brown eyes met mine, and I didn't feel…strange staring into them. His eyes were like that before. When I was at his house and while I helped him with his writing in the middle of it he opted to take a break. He had met my sienna eyes, his own golden under the dim orange light in his room, and those golden eyes looked like slow flowing honey, or syrup oozing from a maple tree. Then he asked if I was hungry…

I nearly melted in them then, and now was no different. It was so easy to talk to him when I looked into his eyes when they looked so…so innocent. No! Not innocent. So…carefree, as though whatever pain that caused him to be so angry didn't even exist anymore. That was what they looked like; soft and pleasured.

It was easy to talk to him, almost too easy, because I had said something that I hadn't meant to allow to pour past my lips. "I was thinking why it was that I could look at you but not feel afraid, but," I had stopped. Even though I didn't mean for those words to fall from my lips, I didn't regret them or feel vulnerable at his mercy saying them, and when I noticed his intent interest, he sat up, and though I caught myself, I finished anyways because I knew that he wanted to know. "…but when you look at me I'm beyond afraid…I'm terrified. I mean that I am really, _really_ scared that you are even looking at me."

He was remonstrant for a long while. He just stared at me. He didn't scowl, glare, sneer, or his brows didn't furrow. He didn't smile, smirk or grin. He just stared. He stared for about three minutes that felt like twenty, because I stared right back at him. Then, finally, lowly, soft and delicately, as though his calloused and heavy handed hands were reaching out to caress a warm cheek or the fickle bud of a flower, he asked, "Are you scared now?"

I could not speak. Not because I was afraid, but because my lucid ability had failed me by the meticulousness of his voice, of his tone, of him in that one second. I shook my head at him. "'Cuz, ain't shit ta be scared of. It ain't like I'mma hitchu…you too damn little." He shifted so that he was facing the monitor again.

"…you hit Jake." I murmured. He cocked his head to the side, again gazing deeply into my eyes.

"Who?"

"My friend." I guiltily eluded his eyes. "The one who…dislocated your arm." I heard him breath sharply and I cursed myself. _Shit! Why did I have to say that…now he's pissed again?_

"So?" I looked up at him, effectively shocked that he hadn't exploded on me. He shrugged his broad shoulders. "So what, ya' don't like me 'cuz I hit cho' friend?" He scoffed. "Git tha' fuck over it. I hit a lot of guys, especially guys who fuck wit' me and he was one of 'em." He shrugged again. "So, so tha' fuck what if I hit 'em," his eyes suddenly became menacingly somber, "you gonna try ta fight me for him or somethin'?"

I wasn't afraid of his eyes now. "I'm not going to fight you." I said in a passive tone. "I'm not trying to fight you." I uncaringly focused on the screen in the corner above the bar counter. "I don't fight. I hate fighting. And I'm not mad about what happened, because Jake hurt you too, but I don't like that you hit him at all," then I whispered, "…or even that he hurt you at all." I looked back at him and noted that his face was quirked in subtle perplexity. "I mean, I only brought him up though because you said you wouldn't hit me…Well, you hit Jake, so what's the difference?"

"Like I said, ya too damn little ta hit. Then ya tell me you don't fight," He said, his temper rising. "…that you fuckin' hate the shit. I don't know what the fuck wrong witchu, but fightin is normal…Jake," Paul said his name thoughtfully. "That's tha' basketball guy, ain't it?" I nodded. "Yeah, well he's bigger an' stronger than you. I ain't gone hit nobody weaker 'den me." Then he uncaringly looked away like I did.

My next question left room to opened up bigger and in depth questions, but it was a bit awkward asking, "Why won't you hit anyone weaker than you?" He snapped his neck back to me and glared. I wasn't afraid of his eyes.

"Why you askin' so many damn questions?" He asked defensively. I made note of it mentally. I didn't say anything. I only stared. "What would be the point fightin' somebody I know won't win? That's a waste of damn time…If they ain't standin' a chance of winnin' I ain't gone hit 'em."

_Bullshit_. My conscience spat. _That's some bullshit. He's lying._ I didn't believe him. I don't know why I didn't, but winning? He wouldn't fight someone if they couldn't win. _Bull fucking shit! _My conscience spat again, and I had to agree that it was some bullshit. I felt that it was more. Perhaps that maybe true, but that was far from the entirety of why he wouldn't hit someone that was weaker than him… so I decided to test him.

"So if I fucked with you, you wouldn't hit me?" He became still. Not a single muscle on his body twitched. His eyes narrowed.

"Don't fuck wit' me." He warned grounding his teeth, seemingly already knowing my intentions. I didn't care.

"I'm not. You already told me before not to." I responded.

"A'ight. So don't. Shit won't en' well for you." I nodded.

"I know. You said that too." I replied. "I just want to know…are you afraid of anything?"

"What tha' fuck fo'? Ain't shit ta be scared of." He replied curtly.

"Oh." I looked down at the table, drawing suspension. Then I looked into his eyes. "Not even when you were younger?" He stilled again. _There he is._ The soft-spoken voice interjected. I didn't entirely understand what that meant, but I did understand the underlying hatred burning in Paul's eyes that were consuming mine.

I wasn't afraid of his eyes.

"You're fuckin' wit' me right now…Stoptha' shit na' before I do decide ta hit cho' ass anyways, weaker or not." I was looking at suicide with the way I was craftily provoking him. What did he have to hide? I wanted to know, even though I had no business knowing.

_Just one last thing and I'll know_. I thought. "Paul," he looked slightly taken aback by the calling of his own name. "Did you—"

"Alright! Here it is!" Riley interrupted carrying a tray with two plates on it. "Sorry it took so long. The chef is going through some things back there, but anyways…" He placed the tray on the table and passed one plate to Paul and the second one to me.

I looked down at the platter before me. I honestly didn't know what the hell it was doing in front of me. It wasn't like I could pay, so… "And don't worry about that kid," Riley's voice resounded reassuringly. "It's all on him." I looked up then at his smiling face and followed his pointed thumb to Paul.

Then I realized that Riley, when he asked Paul if he wanted two or one he had been talking about for me. The second was for me. I didn't know. Paul had grunted what I suppose was "yes", even though he was pissed off at Heidi, he still opted to treat me. I felt terrible as I looked back down at the table and at the plate before me.

_And I repay him by deliberately _trying_ to piss him off._ I groaned to myself, feeling like crap.

"I would ask what the hell happened to make you look so upset, but dude, I highly doubt I even want to know." Riley spoke honestly to Paul. "Man, your fuse is too short for me." He shook his head and walked off after eliciting an exhausted sigh.

It was silent between Paul and me. I was disappointed in myself. I don't know why I did that. I don't know why I tried to upset him. I was just willing to go to any extent to find out more about him. I wanted to know so badly, but that wasn't the way.

I looked up at him. He wasn't eating. He was staring down at his plate, a wistful expression curving the structure of his piercing eyes as they were narrowed angrily in reminiscence. I felt worse than crap. He looked so hurt again. His eyes were brimming with that familiar pain, and those soft, liquid brown eyes that enticement me so were shrouded by that evident pain.

Why did I do it? _Ask him the question._ The soft-spoken voice goaded. I refused to ask him the question I was going to inquire before Riley interrupted. I refused to hurt him anymore than I deliberately already have. _Ask him._ It reiterated. I felt compelled to. I strongly felt that I should ask him, that it would be best, but I tried my damnedest to disobey.

_No damnit._ I bit back, forcibly pushing the mysterious voice into the back of my mind. I blinked out of my reverie and saw Paul eating, his eyes slanted closed. "Paul," he paused, his fork midair, again slightly shocked by his own name. "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"Why you keep sayin' my name?" He cut in.

"Huh?" I answered unintelligibly.

He finished the distance to his mouth with his fork. "Why you keep sayin' my name?" He reiterated around his mouth full of food. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Because…it's your name." I answered, obviously confused.

He was silent. _He bounced back that quickly. _"Don't call me tha'. I don't like it." I studied him. _No. He didn't bounce back. Whatever he was hiding before is just buried deeper now._

"Then what should I call you?" He shrugged.

"Don't care…jus' not tha'." He didn't say anything more. I didn't understand, but I didn't say anything more about it either.

"Okay," I mumbled and proceeded to unravel my utensils that were snug in their white napkin. Nothing else was said.

He ate. He finished.

He faded into temptation and asked Riley for a cigarette, but decided to step outside instead of in the smoker's room.

I didn't know he smoked. I guess it didn't really matter.

I ate. I finished.

He came back in when I finished.

Riley offered him a mint. He paid the bill. Then we started back to the school.

The ride was joined by silence. It was enjoyed.

It wasn't until we were halfway back to the school that he broke the silence by asking, "What's yo' name?" I had turned to him, not surprised that he didn't remember my name, and I turned to look back out the window at the blurs of trees, shrubs, and cars flying passed us.

"Seth," I mumbled, secure in my name. "Seth Clearwater." There was another bout of contented silence between us.

I heard Paul's distant hum. "…Seth." He breathed out only for himself to hear, but I heard him say it. I heard him say it gently, as light as the wind it had passed his lips and I heard it on his shallow breath. "Seth Clearwater."

He said nothing, so I didn't either.

It was quiet until he parked in the lot and we both stepped out the car. It was 4:45pm when we made it back. I had missed gymnastics practice with only fifteen minutes left of school entirely. I wasn't ready to go back into that building yet.

He walked on without me. "Paul?" He stopped but didn't turn around.

"I told you not ta call me tha'…Seth," he added, seemingly as an afterthought. And now I was the one who was taken aback by my own name. He had never said it before. Not in that context. Not…not. I don't know, but he never said it like that.

"S-sorry…but I wanted to thank you…for everything. I really appreciate what you did for me." He twirled his car keys around his index finger but gave no response to me, and I didn't think he would. I sighed.

Then, "…No one likes bein' trapped, Seth. Not even ah' animal like me likes bein' trapped, _especially_ not me. I hate tha' shit more den anybody."

"I mean—" He cut me off with his scoff.

"Why you don't let shit go? Jus' git the fuck over it," and he sauntered forth. "It's ova now." I stood still, watching, thoughtful. Then he said, "…I guess we more alike 'den I thought." I could hear the smirk on his lips, but I was too shocked still to come up with anything to say. "…Seth Clearwater…" he added. Then I could hear no more of his voice as he disappeared behind the door and into the building.

No thought came to mind. An impromptu question formed on my lips, a question that took me two years to finally decipher the answer to. "…Who are you?" It was an inquiry that danced carelessly in the winds and would forever fall on deaf ears until two years later.

I wanted to know.

…I wanted to know so fucking badly. I would soon come to realize that, only the caged knows how to unlock to doors to a cage.

Who are you, Paul? For the only caged can understand the aspect of the question, who?

Paul. _If_ _that is even your real name...__who are you?_ I thought. I walked back into the building and I decided to force the last two hours of my life with Paul into the crevices of my mind for the moment, and instead look for Embry. I needed to know if he was still in one piece.

* * *

**Beta'd by the wonderful _Possessed4evr_! **

**This took a while longer than I thought, but here it is. You know what though; this is going to be one long ass story, because these chapters are turning out to be a lot longer than I intend them to be. .**

**This one was supposed to only be about 7 pages. It turned into 14 pages, easy. Oh well. I hope you enjoyed.**

**And look here people…review. If you like the story, review it. Don't just alert, review. C'mon now, it's been what…17 chapters already, you know if you like the story or not by now damnit, a story alert isn't necessary without a review. Lol! I am so serious though…I mean seriously, don't do it. I will get pissed…..**

**Haha! I am psychotic. I'm still serious though. I will stop writing it and write a real book out of it with my own damn characters easily. I really could. :D Anyhow though, I wanted to pose a bet. ****I bet, for the speed in which the next chapter will be posted, that no one can find the most important line that I placed in this chapter and explain it using what was said in the chapter. Haha! If anyone can get it, then I'll tell you and that person will tell me when they want me to update the next chapter, okay? XD **

**Anyhow, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. The next one won't be done until a minute, or depending on how that bet goes ;) But I have to work out how I'm doing all of this, but until then take care. Love you all! Ciao! ;)**


	18. The Loudest Silence

**The Loudest Silence**

**Why did you change?**

**- November 19th **

**_5:00pm_**

The bell rang.

School was finally let out for the day.

I stood outside the dance studio leaning against the wall beside the door as I waited for Embry to come out. Leah came out instead, her hair dripping with water, or maybe it was sweat, onto her shoulders. She was donned with her duffle bag slung over her shoulder and sweatbands around her wrist and ankles. She hadn't noticed me right away, and for some quaint reason, the slightest of impulses prevented me from calling out to her.

She turned around anyway though. "Seth? You're out of practice early." She said surprised. I didn't say anything, my closed lipped smile spoke on its own. "You hardly ever get out before me. This is like what? The third time in history?" She teased, smiling.

I pushed myself from the wall. "Is Embry still in there?" Her smile fell from her face when I asked the inquiry so suddenly. She nodded nonetheless, moroseness bedded within the contours of her expression.

"He's still in there…He had a hard time keeping up and following along with everyone today. I'm guessing it is because of the things that have been going around about him and Jasper." She sighed, vexed. "People are so immature—whoever started that crap. Embry wouldn't do something like that, would he?" Her question sounded like a statement, yet a statement that she seemingly wanted me to answer. I didn't though. "I tried talking to him…Seth, you have to talk to him, okay? He needs someone, and you're the closes to him out of anyone that I know."

I nodded to her. "I'll be outside in the car when you're ready, 'kay?" Again I nodded. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder as her lanky legs strutted down the hall, but then she stopped abrupt. "And don't think you're off the hook from yesterday either. Something was wrong with you—but Embry is enough for you without me nagging you about it. I just wanted you to know that I haven't forgotten."

I didn't groan, although I wanted to. Leah wasn't one to let up on things, after all, she is a Clearwater too, and Clearwater's don't give up. She sauntered off and I decided to throw the concern into the back of my mind for now and just concentrate on making sure Embry was alright.

After nearly ten minutes of waiting for him outside the door, I ran in, a feeling of anxiousness overcoming me as vivid images of Embry dead pictured itself into my mind. _Kids killed themselves over stuff like this…over stress, over their parent's unhappiness with each other, especially when they think they are the ones at fault for their parent's misery._ With that rationality in mind, urging me to see him more, I ran in, my heart racing.

"Em!" I shouted, searching frantically. "_Embry_!"

"Little Man?" I knew that voice. It belonged to the only man who ever called me "Little Man", and that was Leah and Embry's dance coach, Mr. Carter. I knew him quite well because Leah and Embry knew him exceptionally well, so that caused a sort of mutual relationship between us. I turned to him. He was a cool guy, and his face was never without a smile. His eyes were always only slightly open, never once have I seen the color of his eyes, or even notice him open his eyes fully. He was at least twenty-five, but with the way he spoke and behaved he could easily be mistaken as a seventeen or eighteen year old. He was, at largest, 6"3 with a toned body all over; toned arms, legs, chest, neck, shoulders, and a tight, muscular ass. He was in shape to say the least. Many people were convinced that he was gay, but no one really knew for certain though. "Why so anxious?"

"Where is Embry?" I asked rashly. I felt the hard rising and falling of my chest and my heart accelerating, palpating behind my sternum. Mr. Carter looked thoughtfully into the air inattentive to my manic behavior.

"Hmm…I think he might be in the dressing room…or in one of the showers." As I was about to go and search for myself, he stopped me. "Whoa 'der, Little Man. You can't just go in there. The dressing and shower rooms are private areas."

"But I—" He lifted his hand, which, for some reason or another, effectively silenced me.

"Sorry, but I can't let you back there." My eyes narrowed on him, and he made a face. "Hey, don't look at me like that." He scratched the back of his head. "I mean, I'm just following regulations. So, sorry but I can't..." I sighed and looked away from him. "…not unless it was to his consent and he wanted you to invade his privacy."

My brows furrowed before I turned back to him and saw his grin consuming his face. "…if that somehow becomes the case then it is beyond me whether or not you go in or not…right, Em?" I quirked a brow at him. _Em?_

"…yeah," came the soft and shallow sanction. I glanced over Mr. Carter's shoulder and noted Embry standing in the doorway of the dressing room, his hand tightly clenching the doorframe as he looked back at me and into my eyes. He was still in his practice attire, his hair matted against his forehead with water or sweat rolling over his face and onto the floor.

Embry just came out of nowhere. He really did have the feet of a dancer. _I didn't even hear him come in._ "C'mon Seth," Embry edict. I walked around Mr. Carter, who threw his hands up as if to surrender.

"Well," the frivolous coach said, "if anyone asks…I tried." He laughed and moved aside for me. I followed Embry into the dressing room and sat on the bench as he rummaged through one of the tall metallic lockers and extracted his essentials before tossing them into his duffle bag.

It was silent between us. While Embry clawed his things out of his locker and into his bag, I noted, his eyes weren't hollow like I had thought they would be. They looked just like they had been before all of this mess had happened. But, although he looked fine, his entire demeanor was sulky and dry.

"Washing your uniform today?" I asked in an attempt to pierce through the thickening silence. He only nodded though. "It's about time, huh," I laughed awkwardly, "It's been here for like three days."

"Yeah." He answered hoarsely. My face scrunched and I bit my bottom lip. I hated seeing Embry like this, but I hated the feeling of helplessness even more, and that's precisely how I felt, helpless.

"I should probably take mine home too…" I continued. I was just ranting now, desperately wanting him to say something, desperately wanting this abundant thicket of tension to burn away into ashes and for things to go back to how they were and just ignore all of this. I wanted to ignore everything—the rumors, his parent's divorce, Leah's perceptiveness, and Edward (God only knew how he was taking all of this madness going around about his boyfriend and Embry. He's probably pissed.)—and I wanted to just act like it all didn't even exist.

That sounds selfish, I know, but I honestly didn't know how to deal with what Embry was going through. However, what sounded, or rather _felt_, even more selfish than that, is that, while I wanted to disregard Embry's situation and feelings, I wanted my own to be top priority. More precisely, I deduced to myself, I didn't want to ignore Paul. I felt that he was my problem, my "priority" in a way that seems so romantic, yet puzzling all at once. I didn't even like the guy like that. I mean, I was grateful, but hell I wasn't _that_ grateful.

I sighed. _There I go, being selfish again._ _Embry has bigger problems than I do, and here I am idly thinking of myself_. "…it probably stinks too," I finished, my voice thin before dying out at the end. I looked down at the floor. _Am I really a good friend to you, Em_? I asked myself again for the second time that day.

I heard a metallic click and clang resounded and I assumed Embry had shut the locker. "Seth," I looked up at him, his back still to me. "You don't have to say anything…It's not like I'm going to say much of anything either."

"But Em, you can't expect me—"

"I just need you to be there for me when I need you. That's all. I don't need you to say anything else," he turned to me, a smile that stirred my perplexity bending the curve of his lips. "Okay?" It took me a whole minute to answer him and another minute to realize that I was staring at him wide-eyed.

I nodded to him. "Cool." He breathed. Then his smile fell and he sat next to me on the little wooden bench. I said nothing, and neither did he. He only stared at the ground, and I stared at him staring at the ground before my eyes eventually fell onto my feet as well.

_"True friendship comes when the silence between two people is comfortable."_ I recited to myself. The quote randomly came to my mind as I sat there with Embry. I remember reading it in one of the many poetry collection books that I used to have but left behind at the Reservation because there wasn't enough room on the moving truck for them. It was a quote from David Tyson Gentry, I remembered. I sighed to myself again.

I heard Embry heave, what I perceived be to, a contented sigh beside me. I turned to him. His eyes were closed as he breathed deeply, soothingly. This silence was comforting for him. I could tell. "This is nice." He suddenly said to me, his eyes still closed as I watched his entire mien lift in solacing bliss.

The silence between us was anything but nice, but I didn't say that. Instead I smiled endearingly at him before looking back at my feet. "Yeah…it is." My voice was soft and sweet like plush silk. Before I could even acknowledge myself drifting into my thoughts I felt arms wrap around my waist. I tensed. I looked down at my waist, alarmed, only to see Embry's arms wrapped around me, coaxing me closer to him.

My body immediately melted into his arms. He buried his face into my side and I wrapped my arms around him. "It's okay, Em. I'm here." We sat for only a second until I remembered what Leah had said to me, and I added, "…if you feel the world is against you…then it's against the both of us…together…" I felt his arms tightened around me and heard him chuckle softly.

"…This is nice." He repeated, and again I smiled.

"Yeah…it is…"

**X:~/~:X**

**-5:30pm**

Embry and I stayed in the locker room only ten minutes after our kindling and I walked with him to his Dad's car. It was a kind of awkward state of affairs to knowingly be the person responsible for the divorce between him and his wife and how I now so casual stand before him. But I did what I did best. I smiled, waved and pretended that nothing was wrong, and he returned the favor.

I waved them off when they drove from the parking lot and Leah honked her horn for me to get into her little rickety rust bucket. I ran back inside the building after telling her that I had to go and get the rest of my things from my locker, and she barked at me to hurry up and that we would be late for dinner and all the other nonsense that I knew she didn't really care about herself.

I stopped at my locker and grabbed my things, deciding to snatch my gymnastics uniform from its hook and stuffed it into my book bag so that it could be washed tonight and smell fresh over the weekend. I stopped.

It was the weekend.

I grinned.

"Yes!" I could have shouted out. As a matter of fact, I think I did, and was I positive that I indeed had shouted it when I heard my echo resound and scream the word back at me. The weekend was freaking awesome. I could sleep in and finally put this catastrophe of a week behind me and be optimistic that next week _will_ be better.

I continued stuffing my bag and zipping it close. "Besides, this was _far_ from the worse week of my life. I can definitely handle another week." I paused in my actions yet again. I hadn't heard myself say that I could "handle something" in a while I noted. I shrugged it off though and reached for other things that needed to be taken home over the weekend.

I began to sing, "Oh well, it doesn't matter. You want to know why, because the weekend is here." I sang horribly to myself. "I'm going to go home and die for two days and then come back to life Monday. It is going to be _awesome_." I continued to sing, quite horribly, to no one but me.

I heard a soft patter of feet against the floor and I looked, not too far down the hall, at Paul staring at me with a quizzical brow raised before approaching me. "…Oh crap…" I looked away and buried myself into the darkness of my locker. He was looming over me. I could feel him standing there. "Did you hear all of that?"

"Unfo'tunately…" Maybe I didn't need to go home; maybe I could just fall on the floor and die from embarrassment now instead. "…you ain't ah' singer…you can't sing, an' you probably shouldn't." He stated, rather dry and blatantly. Ugh! _Dig the grave deeper why don't you?_ I groaned to myself.

"Yeah…I kind of knew that already." I pulled myself from the darkness and met his eyes. I really wasn't afraid of them anymore. The hardiness of his eyes was, in some masochistic and sadistic way, kind of alluring in their own daunting beauty. They drew me in now, instead of scared me away, almost as though they were welcoming me to come in.

_Welcoming me into his eyes._ I thought. "_The eyes are the windows to the soul._" I recalled reading in another one of my poetry books. _Damnit!_ I wanted those books back. _His eyes were welcoming me into his soul_? I inquired to myself. I was falling into my habitual analysis state of mind again. Everything around me was beginning to go dark again, and I—"Ouch!" I hissed, rubbing my forehead after being thumbed by Paul's colossal fingers. "What'd you do that for?"

"…You was goin' cross-eyed. I ain't know wha' tha' hell you was doin'." I glared at him as I assuaged my bruised head. "They stopped na' doe." I snarled under my breath—wow! I was around him too much already. I never snarled at anyone before. I didn't know I was capable to command such things from my mouth. He hummed, pensive while he stared imperturbably into my glaring eyes. "…you sound lik' ah' bitch…"

I stopped breathing completely, having forgotten how to breathe. Instead, I stared at him, wide-eyed. _Wha…what did you just say_? I asked him to myself. I was shocked to say the least. I don't know why I felt so shocked to be quite frank though, it wasn't as though his friends haven't called me the word before. I suppose it was because the comment had come from his mouth, because it had passed from between the thin, supple lips that belonged to Paul Meraz. But regardless, why would that have made a difference?

"...a little mutt…" he added, and thoughtfully he called me, "…pup." His eyes had noticeably softened, while, what seemed to be, a smile threatening the bend of those red lips.

"…you just called me a bitch." I said, only feeling slightly less puzzled than before.

"Naw…I called you ah' pup. Tha's wha' you sounded like." I couldn't conjure a retort to that. _What the hell..._? My mind ran rampant with obscenities, but quitted when I heard him say, "An' I was askin' you ah' question."

"What?" I scowled. I saw his smirk, silently amused with my sharp response and scrunched face.

"Whatchu' talkin' ta' yoself for?"

"Nothing." I answered brusquely. I was upset, obviously. He scoffed and scowled down at me. He was upset now too. What reason did he have to be upset? His anger seemed to have paralleled mine. "I'm about to go…I'll see you later." I grumbled and shut my locker close before I briskly brushed passed him.

I heard him hum. "…whatever," I eventually heard his hesitant voice echo down the barren corridor. I didn't turn back to him. I continued to saunter toward the exit, only offering a brief glance over my shoulder when my fingers were curled around the door handle. He was gone. So was I as I forced the door open and basked in the evening sky.

_It was the weekend,_ I reminded myself, and instantly my earlier dismay had vanished. Leah blew the car's horn twice and held it the third time, allowing it to scream at my lethargic strut toward her Buick.

I finally made it though, after completely disregarding her vain endeavors to rush me—I've been through enough. I was going to take my time. I opened the door. "It's about damn time!" She shouted as soon as I cracked open the rusted door. "Hurry up and get in so we can go already. I've been out here for nearly an hour." I sighed and rolled my eyes at her. It was in no way an irritable sigh, but rather one of a brother that was indifferent toward what his sister had to say about anything.

I got in though. I strapped myself in. She wriggled the ancient handle that controlled her gears from Park to Reverse and pulled from the lot before shifting to Drive and taking off with a few jerking motions from the engine and ragged coughs from the muffler.

I shook my head at the old thing. Not many words were exchanged between my sister and me on our car ride home. She hadn't badgered me about yesterday night, or Embry. Instead, she was humming a tune with the radio that I was unfamiliar with. It was a rock song, and from the man singing, whose voice I recognized to be the lead singer to the band _Sick Puppies_, one of Leah's favorite rock bands.

She just recently became a "rocker". After her break up with Sam she secluded herself in her room and blasted rock music that seemingly told her story of inner turmoil and heartache. _Sick Puppies_ sang songs that were relatable to her, and so ever since, even after getting over Sam, she still cherished her connection with the band and their music.

I didn't know much of their music, but I could, undeniably, recognize his voice whenever I heard it, especially after listening to him for an entire month nonstop, every day, one song after another, the band seemingly never running out of albums or songs to play.

"How was school?" She suddenly asked. I looked at her. She was watching the road ahead. I turned to stare out the window.

"It was…" I was reluctant. "…school." I decided to say. I didn't know what that meant. Did that even answer her question at all? I didn't know.

"Yeah." She sighed. "You are definitely right about that one, little bro." She said nothing else on the matter. She only increased the volume of the song playing. I half expected her to ask me what I meant by that, then again, I wondered if she really had to. Leah was able to figure things out about me quicker than I was. So I assumed that, perhaps, she knew what meant, even though I didn't.

I opted to leave it alone and continued to stare out at the scenery beyond the window. My mind, however, focused on the noise blaring from the radio and the man's words as he sang his very distraught life between love and hate.

It was silent save for the music.

_I'm not living a lie while you swim in denial, 'cause you're already dead and gone._

_You'll leave me out on the curb just like everyone else before you…_

_Welcome to my world, where everyone I ever need always ends up leaving me alone. _

_Another lesson learned and I'm drowning in the ashes; kicking…screaming, welcome to my world._

_I don't care what you think, I'm not seeing a shrink, I'm not doing this again. _

_I'm not another student or a mother to take your shit out on. _

_So let's see what you got and let's see what you're not and whatever else you pretend. You've defended my intentions long enough…_

Strangely, as the man sang, his every word pressed Paul into the crevices of my mind. I didn't think too much on it for too long though, because in the next instant I tuned him out, along with my thoughts of Paul.

Silence completely fell between Leah and I when the last word of the song was sang and she twisted the button and turned the radio off. Together we sat in silence, in a comfortable silence. _"True friendship comes when the silence between two people is comfortable."_ I recited to myself again. This was true. Leah was my best friend. I felt contented in our silence.

_Silence there are…_

_No words_

_So loud_

_Screaming, laughing, and crying, _

_Nothing needed to be said, just be there—_

_In silence…_

_So loud, strong, and frightening is my silence, like thunder. _

_So pure, touching, and true is my silence, like nature._

_Silence._

_Saying nothing…sometimes says the most… … …_

I used to write poetry. Sometimes I used to just write and when I came back from my daze of just writing and I read what I wrote, sometimes it made sense, and sometimes I couldn't make sense of it in the slightest.

This was one of the poems that I wrote which I couldn't make sense of, at all. I had tried to understand these feelings that I had scribbled across the page with my pencil two weeks after my breakup with Collin, but I couldn't. The emotion and comprehension was there, I just knew it was, I felt it, but it was so cryptic and buried deep between that lines that it was too hard to find.

I read it so often that I memorized it, every period, ellipses, comma, and even where there were no periods or punctuations at all. I had memorized everything about that poem. But it was left behind with all my other collections of poetry, quotes, books, and novels. _Silence was left behind._ I thought to myself. That didn't make sense either.

The poem only had half a title, which read: "In my…", but after those two words it was never finished. I couldn't think of what to call it because I couldn't think of what it meant. I decided to write the poem down again when I got home.

_Maybe here in Seattle I'll be able to understand it better._ I thought. I didn't know the difference, but it might help. I don't really know.

Leah parked on the side of the curb in front of our house, and we got out. I was moving almost automatically as I was still in thought.

_For now though, I'll call it "The Loudest Silence"_._ That seems to make a little sense._ I said to myself as I padded up the walkway and into the door. I said hello to Mom. Dad was at another one of his councilmen meetings. He would be back late Mom had told Leah and I after complaining about us being late for dinner and Leah blaming it all on me.

…_or at least until I can think of the true meaning behind what I said._ I finished, undistracted in my thoughts despite all of the talking going on between Mom, Leah and I. Eventually though, I escaped them and their incessant talking, skipped up the stairs and plopped down in my desk chair after tossing my bag atop my bed. Immediately I grabbed the blank sheet of paper lying across the desk and a pencil from the tin can in the corner and began frantically copying down, from my memory, "The Loudest Silence".

I finished.

I looked at the page. I read it, over and over and over again, as I looked and looked and looked for half an hour. Nothing. Nothing came to mind which was relevant enough to decipher the puzzling code I sketched across my paper.

_Perhaps I can think of one word that sums up the entire poem. That might help. _I tried. I tried that for forty-five minutes without success. Mom had been fusing at me to come down to dinner. I didn't. Another hour later though, and I decided to give up for now and come back to it after I ate.

I was exhausted. It was a _long_ day! When I returned back to my room after eating alone, I hadn't given the poem another glance, but instead I collapsed onto my bed and fell into a deep, peaceful, and silent sleep.

I had another dream that night too. Again it involved Paul, but instead of being at an altar, we were standing in a vast field, and we were blanketed to our ankles in sticky white snow. It was only the two of us. The cold, white frost began to sparkle under the morning sun, like morning dew against grass in spring.

It was gorgeous. I hated cold weather, but it was without a doubt, a beautiful sight. The only problem however, was that I noted us standing together, facing one another, hands interlocked as we stared into the others eyes, and our lips moved and our eyes curved when we smiled. Our breaths hitched when we kissed and birds fluttered from to the top of the trees. But I could hear nothing.

I couldn't hear our words that were being exchanged, or our laughs, or the hitch of our breathing, or even the flapping wings of the birds as they flew to the tree tops to greet us in our seemingly everlasting bliss. The bird's beaks opened and closed, and I knew they were singing one of their euphoric songs, yet I was unable to perceive their sounds.

I communicated and understood my dream solely through the language our bodies used. I couldn't hear our laughter, but I saw it. I didn't know what we were talking about, but with every smile, blush, and smirk I knew it was something intimate. And just before we would kiss, our chests would jump as we inhaled deeply.

I had awakened in the middle of the night at two in the morning. I was cold, as though I had really been out in the snow when I had awakened to the silence that engulfed my home at two in the morning. I got up to go and get a tall glass of water. Mom and Leah were asleep. Dad had come back from his meeting and was downstairs in his study reading something.

The fireplace was ablaze. It crackled in the living room. Dad must have been home for quite some time I had concluded. I decided to sit on the couch in the living room and drink my tall glass of water as I watched the fire. I watched as the flames danced, wrestled, and twirled behind its cage. It danced so fluidly, silently, only crackling every so often, which, in some way or another sounded like a cry from the flames. It wanted to escape its cage so badly that even the fire was crying to be let out.

I got up and walked over to the flames and instantly I felt its warmth caressing my body and expelling the chill my body felt when I had awakened. I stared into the fire for a long while, and over and over again I noted that its crackling sounded like crying…like pain and sadness.

I only listened. After listening to the fire cry for so long, I poured the remaining bit of water that was still in my glass over the top of the flame, and almost immediately, it died. It sizzled and smoked up the chimney before disappearing completely.

I was surrounded in the darkness of the house then. But despite that, I still knew my way around. The stairs were but ten feet from the living room and I stalked up the sixteen steps before reaching the top and sauntering another ten spaces to my room. I closed the door behind me.

Again I navigated through the darkness and fell atop my bed on my back. I didn't fall asleep. The crimson read numbers across my digital clock read: 2:51am. I stayed awake, but I said nothing though. I remained silent as I stared pensively into the darkness at my stark white ceiling.

The moon's light shone through my drawn window shades and onto my face. I lifted myself and looked outside. The sky was clear tonight. The moon floated desolately all on its own; its mystic hues of grey, green, yellow, black, and white fusing into the skies and sharing a splendid glow of insignias that painted the sky.

It was quiet outside. Stillness and silence consumed the outside world, as well as inside the houses and homes of many. I tried communicating with the moon, but unlike Paul and myself in my dream, the moon couldn't breathe, it couldn't laugh, smile, or blush, and unlike the flames caged behind our fireplace, it couldn't cry either.

The moon was a rock. It was solid, a bearer of the unbearable. It accepted its fate of loneliness without complaint, and without tears. It was alone tonight though, too alone to express the slightest emotion that would render it vulnerable for me to read.

It reminded me of Paul. Paul was the moon. I liked the sunny weather, dry, warm, and bright. I was the sun. The sun welcomed everyone to arise from their sleep and shined for everyone. And unlike the moon, the sun is never alone, because, people were awake, cars were revving, and life was abundant.

The moon on the other hand, if it is without the stars and without the scarce clouds that flittered in the night with it, it was alone. Hardly anyone was awake, the cars were parked in their garages, and there was only quietness.

I lied back down and stared up at my ceiling. I laid my hands splayed above my head. Silence really could be heard. It was just a matter of how one listened. "Why are you so loud?" I whispered into nothingness, and my question was answered, I'm sure it was even though I could not hear it.

I sighed, exhausted still. I turned to my side and pulled and curled my coverings over me before comfortably lying my head down against my pillow. My eyes were still open wide, but slowly, eventually as I surrendered to my fatigue, they began to close, until finally, they were shut and I was sleep.

I dreamed of nothing.

My dreams, or my "glimpses into the future" as Dad called them, were completely silent. Not one noise was made from them...or at least I thought…

I should really start listening more. For all I knew, and what I will come to uncovering sooner rather than later, one's dreams are of the loudest silence.

* * *

**I really like this chapter. It's a more subtle approach to things. I really enjoyed writing it. Haha! This chapter is shorter than my other one. This is about the length that I expect them to be.**

**Anyhow, _rAbiDmutt03_ won the bet, or rather, was the closest. The most important line in the last chapter was when Paul says, "**Why you don't let shit go? Jus' git the fuck over it," and he sauntered forth. "It's ova now." I stood still, watching, thoughtful. Then he said, "…I guess we more alike 'den I thought." I could hear the smirk on his lips…**this was the most important because it shows concrete proof for Seth that they are alike in some sort of way. Even more so, because it was _Paul_ who discovered their similarity and not Seth as it always is. This exemplifies that Paul, like Seth, is analyzing the younger just as much as Seth is analyzing him. Get it? :)**

**But _rAbiDmutt03's_ observation was pretty damn close and really good. **

**The poem in the story is one that I actually wrote myself, and the song that I used is by _Sick Puppies_ "My World". **

**I think that's it. I cited the quotes, and…yeah, that's it. :D**

**NOTE!: I will be making a SethXSam one-shot for _rAbuDmutt03_, and I would really appreciate if everyone gave it a shot and read it when it is complete, yes? :)**

**I hope you enjoyed it! Review Please! XD Lol! I'm not going to make any threats this time though, okay? Lmbo! XD Okay. Haha! Well yeah, review! Ciao for now lovelies. I love you all still!**


	19. Emblematic Acceptance

**Emblematic Acceptance**

**Why did you change?**

_**- November 20th **_

_**10:00am**_

The sun from my open window beamed streaks of stark florescence onto my face, my eyes squinted, I counted the cracks in my ceiling. I had been awake since eight o'clock, the same time Leah had gotten up to get ready for work at the bakery downtown. She kissed me goodbye before leaving around a quarter to nine.

Dad had gone to work as well. He was gone before I awoke, around six, and he wouldn't be back until twelve or so hours later. So it was just me and Mom at home, until about a quarter to ten when she also left to go do god-knows-what.

So I was alone. At ten o'clock I decided that I had counted the cracks in my ceiling enough times; there were about eighteen of them, my favorite number. I hated odd numbers to be quite honest. Perhaps that's why this year, this fifteenth year of my life, was so dreadfully awful? I don't know.

I sighed and swung my legs over my bed after figuring that I had better go do something with myself. I didn't exactly know what to do though, but my body insisted I go while my mind expostulated I stayed in bed.

My body was victorious in its notion to move me. I stood and stretched my comatose limbs. I figured I'd go take a shower since…well since I didn't know what the hell else to do. First I gauged my room, my eyes scanning over it before I deduced that it definitely needed to be cleaned up.

I scoffed. "…not by me it's not," I muttered under my breath, though no one else was even in the house with me. I harked the thought of cleaning and left to find sanction in the bathroom, and under the security of the showerhead.

I finished and dressed quickly. I didn't really have a purpose for haste; there wasn't anything going on today—in my life anyways. It was just a regular Saturday morning, if nothing else an ordinary November morning.

Skipping down the stairs two at a time seemed like the highlight of my day, and I strolled into the kitchen to secure something for my belly in relish. After a moments deliberation I decided that a morning's bowl of cereal—Fruit Loops, my preference— would suffice finely enough and I went on to retrieve the necessary essentials for my breakfast.

I grabbed the bowl and spoon, but as I moved over to the fridge to get the milk I was displeased to note that the fridge was completely barren. "Oh…how wonderful." I went to the cabinet, reasoning that I would have to just settle for dry cereal, but as I looked for the box I could not find it. "Perfect. No milk or cereal," I shut the cabinet, "I guess I'll just eat the bowl then."

I sat at the round kitchen table, with a spoon and an empty bowl in front of me. I was genuinely bored, without a thing to do or a thought to amuse myself. I didn't know what to do. _I suppose homework is an option._ I thought with a groan. _I do have to read another three chapters for Mrs. Locke_; however I discarded the mental proposal. _It's Saturday,_ I reasoned with myself, _I'll do it tomorrow._ Then I gazed into my empty cereal bowl. I could taste an unusual craving for Fruit Loops surfacing on my tongue.

_I guess I could run to the store and get some milk and cereal. It would serve as something to do I suppose._ With a plan in mind, I moved to put it in motion and I rose from the table. I dressed appropriately for the November weather with a cotton sweater, sweat pants, my black leather jacket with my black wool scarf coiling the neck while it draped over one of my shoulders. I slipped into my shoes and grabbed my house keys from the hook hanging on the wall beside the door, seized ten bucks from Mom's—cleverly, but not quite cleverly hidden enough— disguised "essentials" jar from atop the living room mantle. Then I left out and locked the door behind me.

A cool breeze wafted across my face, and it was colder than it should have been, I noted. It was a promising indication that winter was nearing. Glad that I promptly accommodated for the condition, I nuzzled my jaw more securely within the confines of my jacket and I trudged off down the road.

**X:~/~:X**

_**-11:00am**_

Twenty minutes later I had arrived at the store. It was a small store. It didn't have too much consumer traffic passing through, especially during the seasonal sifts. This store, contrasting most of the others like it, lived up to its name "Convenient Market" because it certainly was convenient under restricted circumstances, but not for much else because it didn't have much to offer—atmospherically nor product wise.

The other corner stores, or Convenient Markets, were more like gas stations. They had a heavy flow of customers, despite the climates fluctuations, as well as a surplus of its products. However, the atmosphere wasn't all that great there either, but it was a step up from where I was now that's for certain.

It was like death with a side of suffocation in here. The space was so confined that I would not have been shocked if someone with claustrophobia had a panic attack. I was currently the only one in the cramped space, thank God!

But anyways, I seized the box of Fruit Loops that my tongue craved, and I was now in the refrigerated aisle checking the expiration dates stamped across the gallons of milk when I heard the familiar ding of the door's bell resound. Involuntarily I perked with curiosity as I looked out from behind the glassed door. _Two customers in one day? Oh, they're on a roll today, huh? _I ignored the other presence though and continued checking the expiration stamps.

All of them said they would expire within the next three days._ Man! It would be a waste if I buy it._ I reasoned the situation with myself. _Dad and I are the only ones who drink the stuff, and he hardly eats breakfast…or lunch, and this will have been my first bowl of cereal in two weeks…hm. Maybe I should just it a quart inst—_

"Are ya jus' gone stand there, or are ya gone somethin'?" The voice startled me, but who it belonged to startled me even more, and I felt my breath catch in my chest when I turned to face its owner. "Well?" Paul goaded. I was stagnant in my thoughts, but I soon snapped out of it.

"Wha…I mean, what are you doing?" His brows furrowed I noted.

"I'm fuckin' standin' here," he snapped. " I'm waitin' for you ta move."

"Here, I meant. What are you doing here?" I inquired, completely disregarding his initial flare of indignation. It seemingly did not faze me anymore. He didn't answer me right away, but instead his gaze met mine swiftly with a quiet intensity.

"What it look like I'm tryna do?" He rebutted. "You in my way," He said before I was pushed aside. He indiscriminately reached for one of the three day period gallons of milk and walked away.

"You know that expires in on the 23rd, right?"

"Don't care." He answered aloofly. I attempted to assist, but obviously I should have known better. I watched him disappear down the aisle to the counter clerk. I decided to procure quart of milk save for the gallon before I joined Paul at the front with counter clerk and waited behind him to pay for my things.

While I was paused behind him, I noticed the few items that he had picked up. He had the gallon of milk, a huge bowl, some kind of mix, eggs, and frosting. _Is he about to bake a cake or something?_ I snicker a little on the inside at the thought. This guy, Paul—or whatever the hell he wanted to be called, which I still didn't know—baking? It was a difficult concept to wrap my head around.

He paid and left out. I was next, paid, and discharged with my things secured in plastic bags. Again, a draft of cold air swept over me, and again I nuzzled within the collar of my jacket for warmth. I didn't understand. Why was it so cold? It was only fall after all. It wasn't winter yet. I didn't get cold until then. _I must be coming down with something…a silent flu perhaps._ I sighed. _I surely hope not. _

I sighed again and adjusted my bags in my fist and began the chilling trek back home. Then the presence of a red convertible came into my peripheral, inching slowly beside me. "Aye!" Paul called, and I stopped and turned to face him. He gave me some kind of awkward, colloquial head jerk. The message was clear, but the gesture was…awkward. It was awkward for him to have directed it towards me as though I were one of his football "buddies".

I accepted his offer and moved to get into the passenger seat. I put my bags on the floor between my legs. "Thanks." He grunted.

"Yeah," he replied indifferent. "Where am I goin'?" I gave him the address and some direction, and before long we were headed home—to my home anyways.

The ride was quiet until we were one street from my block and were halted at a stop sign. "You live near here?" I asked. Although I had been to Paul's house I didn't exactly know where he lived since I did fall asleep in his car when we had gone to his place. Then, with all of Jake's constant questioning, I hadn't had the intention of paying attention of my surrounds when he came to pick me up.

"No." He said apathetically.

"Where do you live then?" He was hesitant? I think it was hesitation, a silent contemplation, or he was just ignoring me. It was one of the two. Point is, he didn't answer me. "Well—it's the yellow, red, and white house on the right." I interjected, pointing to the house just up ahead. "Why were you buying milk?" _What the fuck,_ was even _my_ immediate thought after the question fell from my lips.

From the way Paul's profile scrunched in confusion I could tell that he caught the stupidity of the question. His expression spoke words: "What the fuck kind of question is that?" It said. I quickly corrected myself. "I-I mean…I thought I saw cake mix in one of your bags. Are you planning on making a cake?"

He didn't answer me. Instead he projected a question of his own at me. "Why da hell do you talk so much?" He parked in front of my house, a settling stillness enveloping us. "…nice house," he said offhandedly.

"Thanks." I straightened my jacket around my neckline and grabbed the bags from the floor. "Thanks again for the ride…" He grunted his reply and I stepped out. "Oh!" I remembered. I turned and faced the window that he allowed to slide down after realizing my presence. "Um…did you…still need help with anything? I mean, like…with homework or anything like that?"

His face contorted into his signature scowl, his amber orbs ominously staring through me. I felt an instant shiver clawing through my body, and a sudden, and familiar aching tightening in my right arm. Then there was this unusual pressure that was pressing breathtakingly against my chest. It was without a doubt that the longevity of my fear had resurfaced through the acuity of his glare.

I could feel my knees buckling under his gaze, and it wasn't from the chill of the air either, that was for certain. I was sure that I had mastered control over this. I was sure that I was no longer afraid, that the fear had been extinguished. _What a futile thought,_ a taunting voice interjected. _What possibly could have happened to have made you thought you mastered fear?_ The mockery in its tone was evident. _You really _are_ naïve, aren't you?_

The thought arrested me. Naïve. I have been called that too many times to count, and now even my own thoughts are betraying me in concurrence with everyone else's allegations of my naïveté. Despite the betrayal of my own observance I strained to press it to the back of my mind for now and I continued on, stammering, devoid of eye contact, with, "…y-you know…s-since…the game, I-I mean…f-football…" I wasn't making any sense at all.

Paul said nothing of my sudden stammers, and I was unaware if he even noticed the lack of eye contact was willing to provide him. Paul seemed to actually be deliberating over the notion. "I might." He answered, turning away from me. The pressure pressed upon me had abruptly lifted with his glares absence.

I nodded. "I'll let cha know when." He said, and I nodded again.

"Okay," then I turned and trudged up my walkway before he decided to look my way again. I heard his car window slide back up and into place, and the revving of his engine before his tires screeched down the residential road faster than the state of Washington permitted.

I unlocked the door and shut it behind me. I waited only a moment against the door, my mind desperately goading to divulge the consequences of my fear reemerging, but before I could slip into the depths of my analytical thoughts I moved toward the kitchen. I un-bagged my items and put them away. I would eat later.

I sat at the table, and reluctantly I fought the incessant need to analyze the undisputable anxiety that rose up once again. I didn't feel like thinking about it. I wanted to be over it. But after ten minutes, and the continual need to explore my earlier panic persisted, I opted that I needed a durable diversion from myself.

_What can I do_? I thought. _Embry_? _I wonder how he's doing_…I concluded that I would allow Embry to be my diversion from myself, as well as note his progress. _I'll call and check up on him._

I rose and walked over to the telephone handing against the wall. I punched in his number and listened to the interval ringing as I waited.

…

… …

… … …

"Hello—"

"Hi!" I answered excitedly.

"…you have reached the Call residence. I'm sorry—" Damn. It was just Embry's mom on their machine. "…please leave your name, the name of the person you are calling for, a number, and your message, and we'll be sure to get back to you. Thank you. Bye-bye." Then came the beep. I was so anxious in finding an escape that I was fooled so easily, too easily.

I sighed and hung up. _I guess my exasperated sigh will be their message. I'll try to call back later…_It looked like I was facing this Paul problem now. _Uh!_ I sighed again, vexed. If I was going to annoy myself with Paul some more, then damn it I was going to do it comfortably in my own room, and in my own bed.

I sauntered over to the front door and slipped out of my shoes, and then I motioned towards the stairs and to my room. I shrugged off my jacket and tugged the scarf from around my neck and tossed both across my desk chair. I walked over to my bed and gracelessly fell atop it before shifting until I was comfortable. I laced my fingers behind my head as I stared up at my blank ceiling. How I envied the starkness of my ceiling and how blank it was. I wish I could have that moment of peace in my mind where I thought of nothing and just enjoyed relaxing. But that's impossible, I am analytical. My mind thinks even when I order it not to, just like now.

I took a deep breath and looked over to read the time: 11:30 am. I took another abysmal breath. _I thought I was over this…this feeling of fright, at least with Paul. I know I haven't completely "mastered" confidence because I am still very much uneasy around his friends. But…ugh! It's like I got over it, just to be pulled back into it. It feels like I'm moving backwards instead of forward…but in order to have moved backward, I had to have moved forward once upon a time, right? Right. Otherwise I would be defying the laws of Physics, and I don't think that's possible, or rather, I don't think I'm capable of it._

_Now I think the question is: when did I ever move forward with Paul?_ Then I began to think of all of our encounters throughout the week. _It must have been when we left the school early, yesterday. It could've been then, that moment when he took me to their spot, to _his_ spot. But…_I began to second guess myself. _That couldn't have been the "breaking point" between Paul and I. Something before had to have made him _want_ to take me to his spot, otherwise we would have never gone to The Spot, but what happened?_

All I could think about was when we were at his house. _It had to have been something that occurred then…well a lot happened then._ Then I started to list off all that had transpired during that experience between Paul and me. _I invaded his privacy and rummaged through his things, I fixed his arm when it was inept, we got into an argument—a heated one at that—and we rekindled—wait! The argument. That moment when he was on top of me, glaring into my eyes. I didn't look away from him, and I remember that his eyes looked golden from the dim, orange lighting in his room, and I remember that it felt like I was drowning in them…_

_Drowning. Of course not literally, but metaphorically I was drowning. However, now the question is: from what? If I was not drowning in water, or some kind of liquid, then what made it feel like I was sinking? What was I sinking in? Misery? No, that couldn't be it. Stupidity then? Huh, if only that made sense in the slightest. Hatred? Now that's a very feasible conclusion since we both were pissed. But it felt more like a connection when that moment lived between us, like a moment of similarity piqued of sparked interests in on another—as that day I figured he was certainly interested in me, however, though he might have hated me, for our connections to have been similar I would have had to have hated him too, but in that moment I didn't hate him I just desperately…_the dawning of realization began to strike and I bolted up straight…_I just wanted to…understand him!_ I figured out and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet planted firmly on the floor, my eyes untamed on anything as they roamed the floors hardwood aimless.

I had figured out what I was drowning in._ In understanding…in knowing…it was acceptance. That's were that feeling of connection, that feeling of similarity hailed from; our connection of understanding and acceptance. It's as I said before, we're both outcasts, the black sheep in our own worlds—me because of my sexuality, and him…I've yet to figure out, but it is there, he is the black sheep amongst his friends, that much is evident to anyone with commonsense. But in that moment…in that moment he knew and I knew, we understood and we accepted each other because we were polar opposites to our worlds, and not just that, but to one another as well, we were complete opposites, but we accepted that too._

My thoughts were racing, as well as my eyes that were still unfixed to a single object in the room. I could perceive a migraine surfacing soon. _That's it. That metaphorical feeling of drowning was the literal feeling of being understood and accepted._ _It's all even confirmed from when Paul smirked, amused, after I had offered the idea that he and I were alike. He seemed to be amused by the idea. Now, it could have been because he thought it was such an absurd thought and was completely idiotic at the time, but now I don't think that's the case…I think…I think he felt that connection too, how similar he was to me, and he perceived that feeling of understanding and acceptance just as I had. He did…I know he did._

I had figured it out, the moment Paul and I moved forward in our relationship, because it was definitely a relationship, a weird, and distant one between two people who had some tough trust issues, one more than the other, but damnit it was a relationship nonetheless—it just wasn't intimate in any way or form, and I don't think I want it to be…I don't think. I don't know.

Now I could definitely feel that migraine from earlier throbbing in the back of my head, and though I found out when Paul and I moved forward, I have yet to answer my initial question, which was: when did I start moving backwards, which in turn would answer why I became frightened by Paul's scowl. Although, half of that inquiry has been answered at least, however, my mental prowess was exhausted and my head was throbbing, so I had to call it a day on that annotative note_._

My mind and body was fatigued, and now all I wanted to do was sleep. I took another deep breath and turned back to a comfortable position in bed with my head resting on top of my pillow, and before long my fatigued was answered by soundless sleep and a dreamless nap.

* * *

**So it has been a minute. Although, I am happy to say that I will be going to college, and I won't have to pay a single cent. Yay! XD That just goes to show, hard work and dedication certainly does pay off.**

**So I wrote a few chapters in advance, just so you all know, but my internet went out and so it may be a hassle trying to get a hold of someone else's. Anyhow, let me know what you think. It's not as long as they usually are, but this chapter's significance didn't need to be any longer than this. **


	20. Throwing Away Commonsense and Morality

**Throwing Away Commonsense and Morality**

**Why did you change?**

**-_November 20th _**

**_2:30pm_**

I began to stir, shifting awkwardly, my body contorting and stretching as I opened my eyes, slowly perceiving the grandeur of the afternoon sun. I sighed and lied perfectly still for a while, only my eyelids blinking. Eventually I found the will to lift my somnolent body and peer at the rubescent glare of my alarm clock.

_It's only 2:30._ I sighed. _There is still the whole day ahead_. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, especially since it was the weekend, but when there are no plans for engage in, then the day is pretty much expected to be lethargic and boring. I yawned, its affect already taking hold of me, but I got up anyways.

Languid in my movements, I shuffled out of my room and downstairs where I heard quite a bit of conversation ensuing within the kitchen. I dragged my feet across the vinyl floor toward the nutrition parlor.

Mom's harmonious laugh burst through my ears as I noted her at the kitchen table, her back to me, sipping from a mug of tea more than likely. I perceived Leah's sweet chuckle from her place by the sink while she fidgeted with a dirty dish, cleaning it.

A hard yawn elicited from my chest with a groan, unintentionally commanding their attention. "Good afternoon sweetie," Mom greeted first, sweetly, the smile from her and Leah's earlier dialogue lingering on her lips.

"Hey, little bro. How are you?" I nodded my head while another yawn stole my breath away. Leah's smile was still present across her lips as well.

"Good afternoon guys. And I'm fine. Tired, but fine." I answered.

"I brought you a few things from work," Leah said, nudging her head to the fridge. Instantly my sleepy eyes perked with intrigue. "It's in the paper bag in the fridge." I moved to the fridge and opened it and grabbed the paper bag and walked over to the table and sat across from Mom. "You're welcome."

"Thanks." I opened the bag and rummaged through the sugary baked treats. "Mom," I started, taking out the huge blueberry muffin from the bag. "Where did you go this morning?"

"Oh, I went to pay a few bills and pick up the dry cleaning." I halted only a moment from my delving ministrations and looked up at her. I went back to searching and pulling out the two big chocolate chip and oatmeal cookies.

"At 9:30 in the morning?" I asked skeptically. She smiled behind her mug as she took another sip of her tea. She'd been caught and she knew it.

"Oh alright. I wasn't going to tell you guys right away, but," I stopped and gave her my exclusive attention. Clattering resonated from behind me and I presumed that Leah was listening as well, "since you two are here, I guess I'll tell you." She chuckled dubiously. "I haven't even told your father yet…"

"And it doesn't seem like you're going to tell us anytime soon either," Leah mocked, and we all chuckled at the subtle humor. "Get on with it Mom, what happened?"

"Well, as you both know, your father and I were looking at homes and calling around for new estates for a while now," I nodded. "Yesterday morning when you two were at school I got a call from one of the many real-estate offices your father and I have been calling," Leah took in a sharp breath of interest. She had wanted to move since, well not particularly her, but she had wanted me to get away from here ever since she became aware of the torment and heckling I had been facing from day to day from _them_!

"She said to come in today at 10:30 this morning to discuss a few things…"

"And?" Leah goaded. I unraveled my enormous muffin and indulged.

"And we discussed the general things; what kind of home we were looking for, how many would be staying there, price ranges, neighborhood statuses, you know the usual questions and answers. She had shown me a few pictures of homes a little ways over and told me to call her back to set a day and time that would be most convenient for me and your father to go out and look at them with her."

I smiled. I could tell that Mom was ecstatic about all of this from the way her voice rose in pitch with every phrase and sentence she spoke. "However," and just like that my smile faded. Why did everything good have to be followed by something bad? Could the good new just be left alone for once and not be stalked by the bad news? "They also have connections with other realtors outside of Washington and she suggested that I look at a couple and to consider them as well."

"An out of state move?" Leah started, her voice portraying her mixed feelings on the idea. I was completely silent on the entire concept. "Where exactly, out of state, were you two talking about?"

"She proposed a place in California, two in Nevada, and one in Utah." Silence hummed in the air for a short while. "But none of this is definite, which is why I had wanted to wait before I told you guys anything. We may not even conduct business with this real-estate company, and I have to talk to your father before making any rash decisions anyhow."

"…You guys will figure it out." Leah said, and I nodded with a mouth full of muffin. I tossed the empty wrapper back into the barren paper bag.

"Yeah," I said around a mouth full of blueberry bread. "We'll find a new place, the _right_ place for us." I assured, albeit, I had equitably mixed feelings about the idea of moving, but the comforting side of me seemed to have resurfaced. It had been a while since I was struck with the sensation to please someone else, and the thought arrested me in my place.

_Yet again…_I trailed mentally. That perception of backwardness once again impressed itself upon me._ Ugh. It's so vexing._ I growled internally, but on the outside, I grinned. "Thank you sweetie," Mom exulted finishing her cup of tea and taking it to the sink. "Seth, did you speak to Jacob?"

"When?" I broke off a piece of oatmeal cookie.

"Today. He's in the living room."

"What? Really? How long has he been here?" I inquired, puzzled.

"He's been in there for a while," Leah interjected. "Maybe ten minutes before you came down stairs, but you came into the kitchen through the dining room though, so I guess you wouldn't see him." I hummed thoughtfully.

"I guess I should go say something." I concluded, taking my cookies with me to the living room.

"His lazy self is probably lounging on the couch watching sports." Leah rolled her eyes, obviously feigning irritation. It was so apparent that she loved him, and loved when he came around, which made it kind of funny when she would say things like that, and I laughed.

I turned into the living room, and low and behold, there was Jacob, lounging on the couch and watching sports on the flat screen television above the mantle. I debated just standing there and noting how long it would take him to notice my presence.

"Hey, Jake." I went to sit with him on the opposite end of the couch.

"Oh hey, Seth! What's up, buddy?" Though his acknowledgment was pleasing, his attention span was short lived because his eyes swiftly returned to the basketball game Dad had recorded and I mistakenly had watched last Sunday. "Finally up, huh?"

"I've been up a while. I just didn't know you were here." I replied truthfully.

"Awh. I don't know if I should feel hurt or not, but I forgive you for ignoring my existence." He said facetiously, tugging me into a one-armed hug, his tamed eyes never wavering from the application across the screen.

I pushed away from his bear-sized arm. "Disregarding someone's presence and being completely ignorant of it are two different things." I argued. "And wasn't this same game on last Sunday?"

"Yeah it was." He said, shocked, even enough to tear his eyes from the T.V. "I didn't know you watched basketball?" I shook my head.

"I don't really. I can tolerate it though." I assumed he got bored with me because his attention was indiscreetly given to the players running around on the screen above our mantle. "Why are you watching it again?"

"Because, my man does this dunk that's like…orgasmic good." My face scrunched peculiarly, expression my puzzlement. "It's like…a freakin' crazy dunk, and I love seeing it over and over again. That's why I'm glad Dad recorded it for me."

"If that's what you're looking for, then why not just skip to that part?"

"Naw, see you can't do that, because then you don't get the full effect of it. You have to watch the full game to get that effect." His reasoning made absolutely no sense to me. "Plus it's about to come up in a minute."

So we watched the game for a while in silence with him making small reactions every now again and with me anticipating what was to come next. Then, "So what do you plan on doing today, Seth?"

I sighed. "I don't have anything planned. I'm forced to suffer in boredom. I really wish—"

"Oh here it is!" Jake exulted jubilant. He pointed to the screen like a four-year old boy pointing to a commercial ad selling a huge Toyota truck. I watched it anyways, although I had already seen it.

The third quarter of the game was about to end with on a few seconds remaining.

The player bounded up the court dribbling the ball, passing it between his legs and feigning passes to deceive the opposing player. He faked right, tossed the ball to a teammate, and took off to the left. From the aerial camera view the producers provided, it was clear to see the man maneuvering through the line of other players, his hands free of the ball.

Then, with less than ten seconds remaining in the third quarter, the ball is soaring through the air, and the man from before, literally out of nowhere and unexpectedly, is suddenly sky-high and grabs the ball, crosses it between his legs—midair!—and slams it through the rim, and the all too familiar sound of the net whooshing reverberated through the microphones as the buzzer screeches its time limit.

The crowd is roaring, fist pumping, and singing a slur of triumphant obscenities—well the obscenities I'm not so accurate about, but it seems like it would hold true from the uproar. And Jacob was no better. He didn't curse, but cheered as though he was there; live at last Sunday's game.

"Whoo! Seth, did you see that?" Jake shouted elatedly. When did he jump to his feet? Hell if I know.

"Shut up, Jake!" Leah interjected from the kitchen, but it didn't spoil his high.

"Bae! You should've seen it! Awh, man!" Then he turned to me. "Seth, bro, did you _see_ that?" An awkward smile tugged at my lips. Quietly I wondered why everyone seemed to be using quaint colloquialisms when addressing me. _Paul did that weird head nod, and Jake just called me "bro"…and not in the way that he usually says it_._ Eh. I don't know what's wrong with people._

"I saw it." I finally answered. "It was…nice."

"Nice? Nice? Man, that was freaking _fantastic_!" I shook my head at how utterly ridiculous Jacob was taking all of this, though it was amusing to watch him raving around manically about it all. But Jake was a sport fanatic, but more specifically, a basketball fanatic, so I guess it is no surprise that behaved like this every time something like what transpired during last Sunday's game happens.

"What are you tripping out about in here?" Leah asked while she strutted into the room. "Oh god. Basketball, I should've known." She rolled her eyes and immediately turned back around, knowing good and well that Jake would rewind it and force her to watch it over and over again if she stayed for too long.

"Bae, come see—"

"No!" Leah grounded before could even complete the thought. I just smirked, entertained. I sat perfectly still and gauged how Jake bounced charismatic for another two minutes before sitting down and replying the scene another two times; bounding animatedly in his seat for another ten minutes before I said anything.

"Jake," I started, a thought plaguing my mind since his first fanatic outburst. I felt it compulsorily to analyze the thought, my mind desperately wanting me to, but I didn't want to go back through that, instead my heart told me that I needed to tell someone. Jake finally turned to me once he came down from his third temporary high. "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Hm. Of course you can. What's up?" I paused, hesitant as I second guessed myself. All the while I felt Jake's eyes on me, critically analyzing my expression, which I was sure was pinched by uncertainty. "Do you want to go somewhere private and talk?"

I focused on him and nodded. He had certainly sensed my insecurity. Jake could really read body languages. "Alright. Come on." He stood and started to vest his jacket over his shoulders. "You might want to grab your coat too."

"Where are we going?"

"Where else?" He answered as though I should have known just because he slid on his jacket. That doesn't even make sense. "The court, Seth." He said after noting that I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

"Oh." I rose and climbed the stairs to my room as Jake continued to dress himself. I took my jacket and scarf from my desk chair and reappeared back down stairs with Jake. He was already at the front door, and I slipped my feet into my shoes.

"Ready?" I nodded. "Leah," He called into the kitchen, his hand resting readily on the door knob. "We'll be back." Before we could even take another breath we saw Leah's head peek from around the kitchenette.

"You're leaving?" He nodded to her. "Where?"

"The court." Jake answered.

"What? It's like forty degrees outside," and then her eyes fell on me. "Seth, you're going too?"

Jake interjected before I could respond. "Stop worrying. He'll be alright. We're only going to be out there for maybe half an hour, maybe an hour. It's not going to kill him."

"Why are guys going out anyways?" She continued.

"What? I can't just go and hang out with my future brother in law?" He countered with a emphasizing arm dangling around my shoulder. "God woman, get off my back." Leah's eyes narrowed, while Jake's filled with mirth as he grinned lightheartedly.

She scoffed. "Whatever. I guess anything is better than looking at you while you watched T.V with your eyes wide and your mouth hanging open like some hypnotized zombie for two hours straight?"

"Exactly!" He exulted. "I'm so glad you understand. See you in an hour."

"Where your coats?" Mom yelled from the kitchen.

"They have them." Leah confirmed, walking back into the kitchen.

"Oh and Jake," Mom waited for his responsive hum before she proceeded, "Would you mind picking me up a few bags of mixed vegetables and a couple packs of sirloin ribs tips?"

"Sure."

"The money is—"

"Don't worry about it Mom, I got it." He insisted.

"Are you sure, because the money is just—"

"Yes I'm sure. Really. Don't worry about it. I got this one."

"Thank you baby."

Jake then turned to me again, his eyes asking if I were ready while the words themselves were inaudible. I nodded. "Alright, we'll see you guys later." And then we were out and walked to Jake's truck.

**X:~/~:X**

**_-4:30pm_**

The basketball court wasn't too far from the house. It was perhaps a fifteen minute drive. Not much was said between Jake and I, save for the casual small talk of school, grades, etc. Most of the time I spent, yet again, second guessing my defiant choice to tell Jake—

"So…how is everything Seth?" He suddenly asked. I was slightly taken aback. Not by the question itself, but from the concern that was thick in his tone. I turned to him, and stared at him stare at the road a short second. Then I turned to my normal position of staring pensively out the window.

"Everything is fine. How is everything with you?" He nodded his head positively, though I could not see him directly his reflection against the glass proved true enough. "That's…good." I said, unsurely. I sighed. "You're fidgeting again Jake." I didn't need to look; I could hear the incessant thumps against the steering wheel.

It stopped. "Damn," Jake cursed under his breath. I rolled my eyes. _Why does he insist on lying to me_?

_No, the real question is: why do you insist on lying to yourself_? My conscience retorted. I felt the urge to chuckle at myself. I perceived a warmth ride over me.

_It's been a while._ I replied to my rationality. _For a second I thought you had completely evaporated and there was no trace of you left._ I smiled to myself. I had missed this little bastard. He surely did make analyzing things a hell of a lot easier when he contributed his, though irritating, sensibility to the conversations that I have with myself. _Where have you been_? _Some things have been going down and you weren't around to help._ I scoffed. _What a conscience_. I said sarcastically. _And what do you mean that I insist upon lying to myself_?

_You're so stupid, _was its very unintelligent answer. My conscience shook its nonexistent head at me. _You're the one that brings me here, when you say or do something stupid, like now, and you need to be put in check to evaluate yourself. _

I could hear Jacob talking, but I couldn't make out what he was saying on account of my jack-ass conscience berating me. _I am the rational side of you. I am the sensible and moral part that makes you._

_So who the hell am I then, chopped liver_? I rebutted.

_You're lost._ It answered like a smart-ass. _You don't know where the hell you're supposed to go, or what to do. And you know why you have been royally fucking up lately…_I assumed that I was expecting an answer. I didn't give myself one though, and continued when I didn't…_because you have been trying to expel me. You do dumb shit without me. I haven't been around because you _insist_ on not thinking before acting_. _You may hate being analytical, but open your damn eyes for two seconds and bullshit me not when I say this: when you actually take two minutes of your life to sit down and think about your actions as well as others, do I not provide you with sufficient results, understandable results, the results you want_?

I was stilled. I was making too much sense to advocate otherwise. _Of course I'm making sense. You fucking retard, did you not understand when I told you that I _am_ the sensible part of you_?_ I can't help but make sense when you need an eye opener. And that segments into the answer for your question of why you insisted on lying to yourself…because you are blinding yourself, pulling the shade over your own eyes and preventing me from lifting it for you because you refuse to be analytical when you need to be. Open your damn eyes, or let me do it for you, and _stop fucking lying to yourself_!_

_You son of a bitch_, were the only words that I could think to retort with. I could sense the smug smirk spreading across my conscience's imaginary face. I could also still hear Jake talking, about what? I have no clue.

_I'll be that. But we're going to be a sensible son of a bitch from here on out, aren't we_? I grumbled to myself. Damn me for being so rational and tough on myself. Sometimes I wish I could kick my own ass. _But you're a pacifist._ My conscience corrected morally, laughing at me when I began to outwardly look pissed.

"…so I just—Seth, are you alright?" Jake asked me. I snapped out of my own head. I was facing him, but I had no idea when I had turned to look his way. I hummed. "You look angry. I'm not trying to upset you, I'm just saying that I'm worried about you hanging around Paul, tutoring him, or whatever it is you're doing. I just wish you would let someone know how you're feeling about the whole thing, because then maybe I won't always be on edge when I see him now in class on in the halls—or anywhere." Jake expressed his concerns.

"I know it sounds selfish," he continued. "It seems like I only want you to talk about it to calm myself, and that's not what I'm trying to make it seem like at all. I just want you to…you know, not hold that stuff in and let somebody know. I don't know, maybe you'll feel better. I mean, that's if you feel bad at all, but I don't know because you never talk about it to anyone. Not anyone I know at least, or at least I don't think you do." I gave him my "what the fuck" look. He was just talking so much. "I mean it's not like I want whoever you tell to come back and tell me, but you know, it's not like I don't care or anything. You can tell me too, but…tell someone you trust so you won't have to worry about rather or not you can't trust them."

What? And on that note, I was thoroughly confused. And I think he was too because he made a face that practically read: "what the hell did I just say that made absolutely no sense whatsoever?"

"I mean, what I meant was—"

"Jake!" I said louder and more annoyed than I meant to. "Please stop, because you're starting to confuse me more and more. Would you like to just know how I feel about it?"

"Oh, god yes!" He exclaimed, almost immediately relaxing, as he raised his hands in surrender and slammed them back down against the steering wheel. It was then that I noted we had stopped and were parked out in front of the court. "I want to know so much! I'm ready to just pull my hair out trying to figure it out myself."

I laughed. Yeah, I wasn't an easy case to crack. That's been evident for a while now. "Ready?" I asked and I remembered thinking that the tides had turned. Now I was ready and was the one inquiring that of him. But more specifically, I was inquiring if he was ready for what I was about to say, and from the sudden, grave look on his face I assumed he comprehended its meaning.

He nodded. I got out of the truck and so did he. I walked with him to the back of his truck where he secured his basketball, which seemingly lives in the bed of his truck. We then went to the court, and straightaway, as soon as we cut around gated fence and into the expansion of open court, I saw the orange sphere soaring over my head and fall into the basket.

_I guess he couldn't wait three seconds_. I shook my head disappointedly at him, and he knew why I shook my head because I turned to face him, there was his all too popular face devouring grin. Regardless, I went to my habitual spot under the rim, leaning against the huge pole while he ran around practicing.

Nonchalantly I noticed that it wasn't as cold as it was this morning. _It feels nice._ "Well, I'm ready whenever you are." My attention was given to Jake once again. "You don't mind if I play and you talk, right?" I shook my head. He knew I didn't mind, but it didn't stop him from asking me every time though. Then again, talking at the court with Jake wasn't all that common. This was maybe the third time in two years.

_Seth, think before you act._ My conscience griped. _You think you're ready to confess these things, but you're not. You haven't even figured it all out for yourself yet, so how do you expect to explain any of it to Jake, or anyone else? I think you just need to sit and think it over a little more, or else nothing good will come of this, only confusion from both ends._

I thought about it, and conclusively summed up that, _Damn I talk a lot. Shut up._ I said, effectively silencing the doubt buzzing in my ear.

_We just went over this you idiot._ My conscience growled at me. I could feel its—or rather my own—potent glower warning me. _Listen to me…Listen to me, damnit_! I ignored the thoughts, and only began talking once I was certain that this time the voice had been effectively silenced.

"Jake," I started. "Being around Paul…I don't know, I feel like it has been one of the most confusing and most difficult things in the world. But then there is a part of me that wants it," Jake stopped mid-shot and looked at me, puzzled. I turned away from him. "I want him to be confusing, interesting. I want him to be difficult, and enigma…I think…I think…" I heard the net whoosh and Jake's feet hustling to retrieve the ball.

Jake readied his form and jumped for the shot. "I think I want him." I said abrupt. This time the cry of the net did not resound, only the taunting ring of the rim. I watched as the ball hit the ground, the hustling of feet completely mute as Jake was frozen in his place.

I looked up at Jake and our eyes met. My mind was blank, but my heart was racing. We only stared at one another, until finally the ball stopped hitting the ground and rolled to a halt at his feet. "Wh-what?" He asked shakily.

I was frozen still, my mind still blank, and my heart racing still, faster.

My conscience scoffed._ You throw me away, your commonsense, and your rationality. You throw your morals away, and for what, for who?_ I laughed at my own idiocy._ For a boy you don't know. This scene is ringing many bells for you, isn't it Seth_?_ Only, this time, they aren't chiming Collin's name._ He laughed again, incredulous. _You throw me away_?_ Very well…then I'll stay away…_

I felt the voice fading. It scoffed faintly.

…_idiot._

* * *

**Here is another chapter. Things are progressing, they are. I'm getting to the point soon enough, okay? Lol! We'll get there. But anyways, tell me what you think guys.**


	21. Confessions, Confessions

**Confessions**

**Why did you change?**

**_-November 20th _**

**_5:15pm_**

After Jacob had registered what I had said and we went through a series of questions, mainly returning to the question: why? I explained the best way I could, but I don't think he fully understood what I meant. However, he did eventually "accept it" so to speak. He was still quite skeptical.

We managed to converse more on the subject and propelled forward in the conversation about my feelings toward Paul and how I am handling it. He had long returned to practicing, and now, since the most mortifying part, for him and me, was out of the way, nothing else really surprised him as much, and he continued to play as I talked.

Another twenty-five minutes past and I had finally said everything that I wanted to say, or rather everything that I could say and understood about Paul, which wasn't much. When I finished, I waited. He didn't say anything though. I don't know if it was because he was wrapped up into his game, or because he didn't have anything to say at all.

I waited another two minutes before reacting. "Well?" He still didn't answer, but continued to play his game; shoot, run, jump, shoot, the same rhythm over and over. "Jake?"

"I heard you." He said. He didn't face me though. "I just need a minute." He shot the ball. It caught, and I passed the ball back out to him. He dribbled it a little and shot again. It caught, and I passed it back out to him. He dribbled it, and sho—"I don't understand." He confessed mid-shot. He tucked the ball under his arm. "Why? I know you told me why, but I still don't understand why."

"…I know what you want me to say," I admitted. I looked elsewhere. "You want me to give you specific reasons—"

"Yes I do. It seems to be the only way I could possibly hope to understand where this all is coming from." He huffed. "You've been around him for all but—what? A day?" Jake hadn't known about any of my other encounters with Paul except that one, and I expected to keep it that way, but I guessed that made it even more unbelievable that I liked him for only a day. "And all of a sudden you want him? Is he even gay?" I shrugged. "Then how do you hope to—see what I mean. I don't understand. The best possible explanation is to call it lust, and say that it will pass. That's all it could be."

"It's not lust." I corrected, meeting his gaze now.

"Then what is it Seth? What is it that happened that night you were with him that made you possess feelings stronger than lust for someone who has tormented you for years, who isn't even interested in guys, who doesn't seemed to give a damn about anyone but himself, and who you don't even know?"

"I know him," I whispered under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Seth, surely you can understand where I'm coming from and look at things clearly from my perspective. It's not that it's completely unheard of that you developed feelings for him in a day, especially if you believe in love at first-sight like I do, but it's just completely unheard of that you developed feelings for _him_, period."

"It wasn't love at first sight." I corrected again.

"Then Seth, for the love of _god_ tell me what the hell it was, because I really, _really_ don't understand what's going on." Jake just cursed at me. That's all I could think about. He must really be getting upset. "I'm trying to get it, but you have to meet me half way."

"I told you. I just felt this connection between us. It's like we get each other, like I can understand him and he can understand me." I said for the second time.

"So you know why he acts the way he acts then? You know why he's so violent and why he bullies you with the rest of them? You know why, right?"

"Well," I looked away. "No, I don't." Jake threw his hands up dramatically and rolled his eyes. The ball fell back down from the air and bounced once before it was caught and again tucked under Jake's arm. "Not yet at least." I tried to save myself.

"You can see how none of this is making no sense, right?" My eyes fell downcast to my feet. "I mean, what do you expect me to say when you can't even tell me why you care about him and explain it in a reasonable way that isn't just: I care because I just do, because that's what it seems like. You just like him because you do, and that doesn't make sense, not unless you're looking for the recipe for a one-night-stand, if so, look no further, because you found it."

"I shouldn't have told you this." I answered remorsefully, my eyes still downcast.

Jake sighed, and I felt his hand on my shoulder. I didn't know when he moved, but he was suddenly right in front of me and I was breaking my neck to stare up at him. "No. I'm glad you told me. I'm glad you're confiding all of this to me. It makes me feel a lot better about everything. At least you caring for him is a better scenario than what I thought was going on. I thought he was hurting you and you just weren't saying anything about it. But I'm really trying to understand all of this, but I can't seem to wrap my head around it, and neither have you apparently. You don't fully know the feelings you have, which I'm guessing is why you can't explain them to me, you know? So, just take some time and figure that out. We can come back here if you want. I won't play, we'll just talk. Cool?"

My gaze fell back down to my feet. "You want me to say that I love him—"

"Oh no. No, no, no, not at all…Let me make this perfectly clear Seth," he said, and squeezed my shoulder. "I hate him. I hate him so fucking much for what he did to you, for the things he still does to you. I wouldn't be surprised if this was one of his games to manipulate you," I hadn't thought of that, "so that is the absolute _last_ thing I ever want to hear come out of your mouth, ever. But in some turn of events this dilemma goes on and is taken that far, well, then you have to prove that to me. However, will those kind of feelings from you be reciprocated by Paul, I don't know. We still don't know if he even swings that way, but I will definitely support you if you can prove that you love him and he does the same. Just show me anything so I can grasp some kind of concept of how you feel."

What if I was being manipulated, tricked into thinking we have some kind of connection. Is that even capable of happening? Are _they_ capable of making that happen? _Of course they are, they're athletes,_ I reasoned with myself. _They can make people love them and then crush them in the end…_I didn't tell Jake this, instead I asked, "And how would I prove that?" I asked, and again our gazes met. Jake gave me a look.

"Why? Are you planning on things being taken that far?" I shrugged. He hummed. "Well, I don't really know. Usually when someone is in love with someone else, it is pretty obvious, especially to other people who are in love, so if you are, I will know it and all you would have to do is be you, I guess."

Jake is an awesome brother, and if Leah doesn't marry him I'm going to break my pacifistic ways and punch her straight in the fucking throat. I nodded to him. "So what now?" I asked.

"I don't know. Do you plan on pursuing Paul?" I shrugged. "Do you plan on pursuing your feelings?" I shrugged and he laughed, which made me smile. "Do you plan on eating tonight?" I nodded. "Then I suggest we go to the grocery store and grab Ma's food and head home so we can eat."

"You're staying for dinner?" He gave me another look as if saying: don't be ridiculous. "Okay." I laughed and we walked from the court and back in Jake's truck after he tossed the ball in the bed again.

"And Seth," I turned to him, and he to me, and with rigorous conviction he said, "It's whatever you want it to be now. I'll support you through whatever, and I'm sure Leah will too." My eyes broadened and Jake chuckled. "Don't worry. I'm not going to tell her anything, but I just want you to know that when you're ready to tell her, she will support you too, just like I will."

I was reluctant. "I know." He nodded. He twisted the key in the ignition and the truck revved to life.

**X:~/~:X**

**_-6:00pm_**

We made it to the grocery store. "Okay, so we're going to do this quickly so we can get home and eat already, alright?" Jake said. "So I'll go get the rib tips, and you go to the freezer aisle and get the mixed veggies?"

"Okay." And with that, we divided to complete our tasks. I moved swiftly. I was just as starved as Jake was. I looked through the glass windows trying to pinpoint what we came to procure. It took a little more effort than I thought was necessary to find it, but I finally did. "Finally."

I opened the refrigerator. _I wonder how many bags she needs_. I grabbed three. _This should be enough._ I closed the fridge, and turned back down the aisle.

"Seth?" My ears perked at the mention of my name and I turned around. To my surprise, there was Edward with a box of pancakes and a bag of vegetables of his own. He sauntered toward me. "Hi. How are you?"

"I'm pretty good. I didn't expect to see you here…Um, how are you?"

"I come here all the time. But I'm doing pretty well myself." He said, staring directly into my eyes, seemingly under some sort of spell. It was quite uncomfortable.

"Yeah. That's good." I shifted my weight on each foot. "I have to go right now, but maybe we can chat later?"

"Huh?—Oh, yes, yes." He snapped from his dazed and blinked. He shook his head. "I'm sorry I don't mean to hold you up, but I heard about your friend's reputation, or at this point, lack thereof."

I glowered. "Embry didn't do anything." I defended and Edward nodded in concurrence.

"Believe me, I am more than certain that he didn't, and I have made it a point to try and correct all who believes and says otherwise." My glower faded. "But please let him know that I am terribly sorry this happened to him. I'm sure he has enough to worry about with school, let alone with someone defaming his reputation."

_You don't know the half of it._ "But please make him aware of my deepest apologies for all the chaos that Jasper has caused." I nodded. "I don't mean to keep you." I nodded again.

"Thank you…um, I'll let him know." Edward offered me a small smile, and I turned to walk away again.

"Seth?" He called me again, and I turned to face him. "I do apologize for taking up your time. I know you have somewhere to be, but…I would really like to take you up on your offer, and if we could, perhaps later, go somewhere, just the two of us, and chat. If that is okay with you…as friends of course."

"Oh…um…" I was stuck for a second. _Is he asking me on a date_?_ I think so. Hmm. He doesn't seem to waste much time. He just gets right back on the horse. Or maybe…maybe he just needs a friend._ "…um, sure, sure. No, I don't mind." I answered, figuring what is the worst that could come from it.

"Excellent. Is tomorrow good for you? Breakfast perhaps?"

"Yes...uh, tomorrow, breakfast is fine." I agreed backing away slowly. I was sure that Jake was waiting for me. Edward shifted his bag of vegetables to his other hand, dug in his pants pocket and pulled out a Sharpie. What was he doing with a marker in his pocket, I didn't know. He approached me with his hand outstretched. I stopped, confused.

He said nothing. He just smiled and grabbed a bag of vegetables from me. "This is a permanent marker," he said and commenced to writing his seven digits across the bag. "10:30 tomorrow morning, okay?" I just nodded. "Okay. Thank you for sparing your time with me," he said placing the cap back onto his marker, "and I promise that I'm done wasting your time until tomorrow, so I'll see you then."

I turned and hurried down the aisle toward the check-out register at the front of the line with Jake. "Finally." Jake sighed. "Did you get lost?"

"No. I saw a friend." I replied honestly.

"Paul?"

"No, Edward." He looked down at me for a split second before turning away.

Jake hummed pensively. "Hey, I'm sorry about your friend, Seth." _Everyone really does know._ "I know what everyone is saying isn't true. What they're saying doesn't seem to be the person that I met at all. I'm sure someone is just exaggerating the truth."

"No," I stated. "There is no truth to what they are saying. It is just a blatant lie."

"I believe you."

I sighed. _ Em_.

I had to call him.

**X:~/~:X**

**_-6:30pm_**

Jake parked his truck on the side of the curb in front of our house. We walked into the house and slipped out of our shoes. "We're back!" Jake shouted.

"Are those my boys?" Dad's voice reverberated. _It must be after six._ I concluded. It sounded like his voice came from the living room. Jake took the bags to the kitchen and I followed after him to use the phone.

"I'm going to put the groceries in the fridge." Jake told me. "Let Ma know that they're in here if she comes in, okay?"

"Okay." I answered and after he finished he moved into the living room with Dad. They made noises of greeting, some laughter and the usual how-do-you-dos. I punched in Embry's number and listened to the phone ring.

Leah walked into the kitchen with me, bare footed with her hair in a ponytail and pajamas on. I guessed she didn't plan on going anywhere else tonight. She waved when she saw me on the phone, and I waved back. The phone was still ringing and I decided to trace the steps of my sister with my eyes as she moved to the fridge and grabbed a can of pop to quench her acidy thirst.

She popped the can, the acid fizzing and crackling against her lips. She took a sip and wrinkled her nose at the potency of the liquid. She pointed to the living room, unable to speak with the burning sensation sliding down her esophagus.

I nodded, already knowing the meaning of her pointed digit asking for Jake. She nodded and left to go to the living room. The phone rang one more time before going to voicemail, and surprisingly it had been changed to Embry's voice.

"You have reached the Call resident," he said melancholy. His voice was dragging and it sounded thin through the line. "I'm sorry we cannot come to the phone, but leave—leave your message and someone will get back to you…", then there was the automatic beep that came shortly after. I hung up.

_His voice,_ my thought couldn't develop beyond those words. But all I felt was my heart beating painfully against my chest. "Sweetie, is everything alright?" I looked up from my stupor.

"Y-yeah. Everything is fine, Mom." I assured.

"Are you sure?" I nodded. "…okay," she drawled. "Well, did you guys go to the store?"

"Yes. The food is in the fridge."

"Okay, well I guess I'll get started on dinner then." I hummed affirmatively. "Did you see your father?"

This is going to sound terrible, but I had completely forgotten about him, but I didn't tell her that though. "No not yet. I was just about to," I lied. I was actually about to go to my room. I left the kitchen and went into the living room to speak to Dad.

"Hey Dad." I said. Leah and Jake shared the couch while Dad sat comfortable in the recliner chair while they watched the Notebook. I stood behind Dad and he turned around to face me.

"Hey son. I haven't seen you all day."

"I know. How was your day?" I asked him.

"It was productive. What about yours?"

"It's been…" I looked at Jake, but he was too into Leah at the moment. "It's been busy."

"That's good. It's never a good thing when you've got too much time on your hands." He advised. I hummed, not for anything in particular; I just didn't have anything else to say.

"Yeah. Well I'll be upstairs if anyone needs—"

"Who wrote on my vegetables?" Mom yelled from the kitchen.

_Oh crap. I had completely forgotten about Edward too. _I thought. I concluded that I should probably ask them if I can go out with Edward tomorrow. I didn't feel like it though. _I'll tell them later._ I left back into the kitchen and copied the number onto a piece of scrap paper.

"You can throw the bag away now." I said.

"Whose number is that?" Mom asked.

"A friend's." I answered curtly. I really wasn't in the mood to talk. I just wanted to be alone. There was just far too much to think about and figure out. I still had to find out when I began to move backwards with Paul, I still had to confront these inexplicable feelings that arose for Paul, and I had to get rid of this perpetual _stinging_ in my heart for Embry. On top of all of that I couldn't seem to be able to get ahold of Embry at all.

I left to escape the madness in the sanctity of my room. _Maybe I should just go over to Em's house myself_, I decided. _I will, tomorrow, after Edward and I go out for breakfast._ I turned around and read my alarm clock that read: 6:45pm

_I guess now would be the best time to finish some homework. It would certainly take up some mental space._ I really didn't feel like thinking about my problems. At the thought of seeking for a distraction instead of sitting and facing these issues, I half-expected my conscience to come out of nowhere as always and supply its own opinion, but it didn't, and it seemingly won't, not ever again.

_I forgot I threw it all away. _I sighed. _I threw it all away for him._ Instead of pondering over it for too long I went to my closet and pulled out my backpack from the back and gathered all that I needed to start my Science assignment.

I placed everything out across my desk and sat down in the chair. I sighed. _It's too much. It's way too much going on at once…and if I feel like this, I would hate to know how Embry feels about it all. _I shook my head to clear it of the thoughts. I didn't have the energy to think about it right now, and I sighed again.

I managed to create enough space in my mind for my brain to function and assist me with my homework, and once I started I completely immersed myself within my work. I stayed this way, working through my Science, World Geography, and reading my book for English until Mom called me down for dinner at around 7:30pm.

I closed my book and placed on my bed before I got up and swung my legs and planted my feet on the floor. I walked out of my room and turned the light out, shrouding it in darkness, and then I turned to stalk down the steps and to the dinner table.

_…resign your doubts… we will work out…_

I stopped mid-step at the thought that suddenly echoed. The familiarity of the voice that resounded; that soft and sweet voice, the one that goaded me to cut school with Paul that day, spoke to me again. For a split second I thought it was my conscience, but this voice was much softer, stronger, and much more compelling.

I waited for it again.

…

… …

… … …

Nothing.

I didn't understand what it meant though, "resign your doubts," what doubts?

_Perhaps it'll come back._ A very potent feeling inside of me persisted that it wouldn't. _Not anytime soon anyway._ It was an unexplainable feeling, one that perpetuated me to seize this voice, to command it, to understand it. But that was definitely easier said than done, especially when…_especially when_ _this voice seemed so forlorn, as though I've tried to catch it before but it eluded me every time…_

I pondered over it for a while, but I decided to push it to the back of my mind for now, and I continued to the dining room. My head hurts now…

* * *

**It's been a while. I just completed my first semester of college. I was there for the Summer and have returned for the Fall semester. Yay! Well I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I will see you all in a little bit because I plan on updating regularly, will it happen though, I'm not sure, but it is always good to have a game plan, right? :) **

**Oh and by the way, like I said at the beginning, there will be none of Paul's POV in this story. It is all Seth's. All of it…none of Paul's. However, after I was finished with Seth's I did think about writing another from Paul's POV (have I said that already? I don't know) but yeah. Paul's POV is not going to come in this story unfortunately…sorry :( **

**But still, I would love for you all to tell me your very special thoughts and feelings on this chapter…**


	22. One and Three

**One and Three**

**Why did you change?**

**_-November 21st _**

**_9:30am_**

I had been awake for a while now. I had been idly lying in my bed again, staring up at the stark white ceiling. It was Sunday. Dad and Leah were at work, leaving me home with Mom. I turned to my alarm clock and groaned when I read the time and turned over on my side.

It was nearing 10:30. I didn't want to go out with Edward, but then again, who is to even say that this was a date? We could just be friends going out for breakfast. I mean, he did just break up with this boyfriend of four years, so I'm sure he needs time from the dating scene. Regardless though, I still didn't want to go.

My mind was far too congested to have Edward intruding upon it like this. I already hated that I had to face another day of Paul and Embry. I didn't need Edward complicating things any more than they already were. However, I had to give him the benefit of the doubt because I said I would go with him…but that doesn't mean I'm going to like it in the slightest.

_Alright stop bitching, get up and get this over with._ I forced myself out of bed and to take a shower. I had gotten dressed by 10:10 and sauntered downstairs. "Seth, is that you?" Mom asked, and I didn't answer. Who else would it be? I guess a burglar? Not likely though. Not in our neighborhood anyways. I just walked into the living room where she was.

She was sitting on the couch, a cup of tea, or maybe it was a cup of water, in hand while she watched her early morning soap operas, her eyes engaged in the drama. She cut her eyes to me swiftly and immediately her eyes, glazed with anticipation became critical. "And what are you all dressed up for?"

I moved over to sit next to her, the entire time her eyes traced my movements. "I was going out with a friend." I told her. Her eyes crossed. "I mean, can I go out with a friend?"

"When?"

"Today," and I noted the time on the clock next to the nightstand, "in about fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes?! And you are just now telling me?" I looked away.

"Sorry." I really wasn't though.

"This is the second time, Seth," she reminded.

"I know."

"Who is this person you're supposedly going out with?"

"Edward."

"That same boy that no one knew anything about?" I didn't answer, and then she asked, "Is Embry going with you?"

"No," and before she could say another word I added, "but I am going to go see him afterwards though. He's been…down lately." My mom hummed, already understanding. Silence fell. The dramatic unveiling of the main protagonist's pregnancy in Mom's soap filled our silent space with gasps while the rich orchestral sounds of pianos, violins, and cellos rang.

"He has." She agreed. "I hardly see him anymore." Now I was the one who groaned at the thought. "It must be hard," she said. Did she know? "Why he has to go through so much at such a young age," she shook her head, heartbroken. "It can really destroy a child psychologically; make them coarse with rage and desolation to have to suffer through so much, so young…" I said nothing. I only listened. "Go ahead, Seth, and when you see Embry, give him a hug for me, okay? Sometimes knowing that others are there will lessen the burden and let people know that they are not alone."

Even Mom knew. It was spreading like wildfire. Embry's life was practically being put on display like some sort of stripped bare pink mannequin at a Wet Seal store, and not just the things circulating about Jasper either, but everything in his life people seemed to be playing like a game, and each time they would win his secrets. It was beginning to make me angry.

"And Seth," she called after me just as I were getting up to sitting outside for some fresh air. "Don't let this last minute news keep occurring either. An earlier notice would be nice." I just said sorry again, though I really wasn't, they'd get over it. I grabbed my coat from the rack and went outside to sit on the porch.

I needed the air's fresh breeze to distill this staleness taking over me. It was all becoming too depressing. I really did not want to think about any of this right now, not until later when I would see Embry. Right now, right now I just wanted Edward to hurry and get here so I could leave the thoughts for just a second, if only a second.

**X:~/~:X**

**- 10:50 am**

Edward was the punctual kind of guy every businessman loved, and arrived exactly when he said he would. I got into his car—it wasn't anything really fancy like Jasper's or Paul's, but still a nice car—and we tried for small talk while he drove. I tried to engage myself in the conversation, but it wasn't exactly working out in my favor.

Anyways, he decided that we eat at a little place called "Daily Topic" since I told him that I had never gone. Apparently they have the best lunch foods…according to him anyways. So there we were, sitting across from each other, him with their pancake/ cheese omelet breakfast combo and me with the normal lunch foods; a chicken breast sub sandwich, a caesar salad, and a few pieces of sausages with a cup of orange juice.

So we ate, and again we tried for more small talk, and then we ate for a little while longer until small talk started to work back into the atmosphere until I just couldn't take it anymore and I put down my drink and said, "I don't mean to be rude, or mean at all, but why did you ask me here exactly?"

"To chat." He answered. "Not about anything in specific, but…well…"

"Well?"

"Honestly?" He asked me.

"Yes honestly. Why did you want to bring me here and just chat? That doesn't make any sense if that was all you wanted, because that could've waited until Monday. I have so many other things to worry about that I can't afford to sit here and just chat with you."

"If you are as busy as you say, then perhaps sitting and just talking is a perfect way of alleviating some of those other things that you say you _have_ to worry about." He countered me.

"No." I replied, and I felt my eyes narrowing.

"Fine, fine." He surrender. "Very well, if you must know, the reason I asked you here is because, since the last time we sat and chatted, back at the Pizza Pub that one night, I could not for the life of me get you out of my head. I really enjoyed hearing you talk to me so frankly, so candidly. I remember all of what you said so clearly, it is like your words haunt me, and I desperately wanted to sit and talk with you again ever since then."

I said nothing else on the matter. Instead I allowed the small talk to submerge and reemerge as it pleased and I flowed with it.

Time elapsed suddenly, quickly, with us just talking, and I guessed that Edward was right about just siting and talking was what I needed in order to not think about all that was worrying me. It certainly did until what I was supposed to not be worried about strutted right through the front door, almost as if reminding me not to forget it was still there; riding my back and breathing down my neck.

I was startled when he walked over to me, nearly choking on my last bite of sausage, "Paul!" I choked out. He had on a very thin, very snug black beater that defined every muscle in his chest and stomach and that revealed flawless copper, toned, arms. His nipples were hard from the chill of the air. What possessed him to where that, I haven't the slightest clue in the world.

He acknowledged me with a nod and a monotonous, "Pup," then his eyes, and mine, turned on Edward, who cleared his throat for reasons I don't really know and was too startled to want to find out.

Edward nodded to him, and Paul stared but a second at him before looking away without a word. "What are you doing here?" I asked, and as always when I've said something stupid, his eyes narrowed in on mine, making me nervous.

"What are you doin' here?" He replied.

"Eating."

"There ya go den. You jus' answered ya own question."

"Paul, was it?" Edward interjected. "I believe I've seen you around before, however, if you don't mind, Seth and I are enjoying each other's company over some lunch…feel free to join us if you like." For a split second my heart trembled for Edward when Paul's face fixed into a sneer. Paul looked at me and our eyes met, a silent translation between us, and he scoffed before leaving Edward and I be.

"I didn't know you knew people like that Seth." Edward said. "You really do get around, don't you?"

"Excuse me?" I spat, my brows furrowing.

"No no, you misunderstood. What I meant was, you're a lot more sociable than I thought you were." I challenged him with my eyes for a brief second, but decided to let it go. "So, where do you wish to go after this?" He asked, triggering more idle chitchat between us.

I stayed engaged in the conversation between Edward and I, but I also was aware of Paul's presence, and I watched his back as he got his food he ordered and left the little diner. I liked the way his back muscles shifted from shoulder to shoulder underneath his snug black beater. I was getting hot, my imagination exploring areas that it shouldn't be, and I bit my lip and took a few sips of my drink.

_Damnit…I still want him_, but I still didn't know why. Maybe it was just lust like Jake said. Certainly it wasn't love. I just really like the way he looked, and smelled, and walked…his body, and his eyes…and other things too. _Fuckin' hell, _none of that told me anything important about why I liked him though, so I was still at ground zero.

_Damnit…_

**X:~/~:X**

**-12:25pm**

"Are you sure this is where you want me to drop you off?" Edward asked me as I stood outside his car door. I nodded. He seemed a bit skeptical, but complied anyways. "Okay, well you have my number, should you need me at all you know how to call." Nope I didn't. I had actually forgotten his number, but I nodded again anyways.

"Alright, see ya." I said and waved him off when he drove passed me. I turned back to the house across the street. The yellow and green house that always reminded me of the eyes of a cat, or a snake, and for some reason, an emerald, but directly across the street from where I stood was neither of those things; it was actually Embry's house, which looked a bit ripe and unorthodox in comparison to its neighbors with its unshaven grass and open garage without a car inhabiting it. I walked over anyways though.

I rapped on his front door twice and waited until I heard locks unlocking and chains unchained. The door opened ajar, just enough so that Embry's eye could scan over me, but the eye didn't meet mine. "Hey Em." I tried to say it as excitedly as possible, but it came out hoarse.

"Hey." He replied. His was hoarser than mine, almost like death hung over. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" I asked instead. He was hesitant at first, but after a short second he decided to open the door for me. What I was expecting when I entered was completely opposite from what I got. I was half expecting for the place to look a complete and utter dump, but it wasn't. I had actually never seen Embry's house so clean before.

"What are you doing here?" He asked me again. He walked passed me and into his kitchen. I followed.

"I've been calling…but you haven't been answering, so I thought—"

"I'm fine, Seth." He rebutted abrupt. His back was tuned to me when he grabbed the damp rag hung over the bottom cabinet of the sink and began wiping his already spotless countertop.

"Em, don't…you aren't fine, and I want to be here for you, but you won't let me." He ignored me, and moved over to the fridge and began wiping there. "Em." My call was in vain. He started with the stove. "Em!"

"What?!" His fist slammed down against the top of the metallic heat pit, bawling the damp rag into his fist. He still wouldn't look me in my eyes.

"I want to be here for you. I want to help—"

"Seth, get out…Now!" I wasn't going to leave. He didn't have the balls to even face me, let alone look me in my eyes. How did he possibly think he could convince me he was fine if you couldn't even look me in my eyes and tell me.

"I want to help you, Em."

"I don't need or want your help. I just want you to get out."

"No." I grounded. "I'm not leaving."

"Get out of my house, Seth." He said warningly.

"No." I grounded again. "Not until you can face me and look me in my eyes, I'm not going anywhere."

"Seth, don't…" I could tell that his throat was burning with rage with the way his voice trembled. His slammed fist was visibly trembling as well. "Don't tempt me. Just get out of my house, right now."

I was playing a fools game. I could sense his threat . I can honestly say that I believed that he would do something reckless to me if I did not leave, but I went along with him. "Or what, Embry? What are you going to do?"

In an instant, he bellowed a growl loud enough that it sounded as though it were ricocheting off the walls, the sound surrounding and swallowing me whole. "Get the fuck out of my house!" Before I could even realize it I was pinned down. My mind was too hazed to discern what I was pinned to exactly. "Get out of my house and stay the hell out of my life!"

The fog in my mind began to clear. "What?" Did he really just say that or was I delusional.

"This is _all,_ your fault. All of this is because of you." He was so close to my face, snarling, that I could feel the heat of his breath against my lips. "If I didn't know you," he pushed me harder into, what I now registered, was his refrigerator. "…I wish I had never, _ever_ met you! You ruin every fucking thing you come in contact with. I swear…" I felt my body trembling in both sadness and anger, so much that I think I even let a tear slip down my clenched jaw.

"I swear to god, I fucking hate you!"

Everything stopped at once. Everything did. My sadness and anger evaporated immediately. My thoughts halted their process and my heart, my heart completely stopped beating, and I shrank into myself until I felt wetness splash against my nose and I realized that his eyes were glazed over with tears as well.

His eyes met mine.

We were stuck for a while, him looming and glaring over me, and me lifelessly numb. "Get out of my house, Seth…right now." His eyes fell from mine and he pushed away from me. It was as though his closeness were sucking my life away, and as soon as he put some distance between us I could breathe again.

I didn't argue with him this time. I turned and walked, shaken up, towards the door, but I stopped. I didn't hear him behind me, and I turned around. He was just standing there, his back turned to me, shaking. At first I thought it was his anger again, but then I heard a soft sniffle emanate, and I understood that he wasn't angry, but scared.

Why do I feel like he is scared and not sad, because, I could feel it in me, somewhere, that he has finally realized just how deep he is in, and he just dismissed the one person who truly wanted to help him. He has lost everything, and that kind of recognition can scare anyone, especially those who have never been alone or even know what it feels like to be completely alone and misunderstood. How do I know? I've been there.

I didn't leave, not yet. "Em."

"Why are you still here?" Instead of leaving I moved over to him as quickly as I could, nearly sprinting. "What the hell are you doing?" He was turning to face me. "I thought I told you to—" just before he told me to leave again, I grabbed him, and I held on for my life. I embraced him, and I think he was more than just a little shocked. He was shocked still.

My face, because of our height difference, was burrowed into his neck. I whispered to him what came to mind. "I love you…I love you a lot, and I hate seeing you like this. I don't think you understand how much I really want to help you, but I can't…I can't because you won't let me, and because I just don't know how." I squeezed him harder, pulling him in even closer to me.

Nothing could have been any more surprising when I felt a single rush run up my spine when I felt his arms hugging and embracing me against him, very tightly. He didn't say anything. He just hugged. "I just want you to know that I am worried, and that I only want to help."

His body jerked. I don't know if it was because of a scoff or if he were letting out more tears. "You're always worried about something that doesn't pertain to you."

"But it does…it is my fault. I know that, and you even said it."

"No it isn't." He stated firmly. "It is not your fault. None of this is. I don't know why I said that…I thought it was at a certain point, but you could not have predicted that this would have happened. It isn't your fault, and don't you think it is. I was stupid for saying it. I'm sorry. I am so sorry I said that."

"I am just so worried that I don't know what to do." I looked up at him. "What can I do?"

"Nothing. You can't do anything. No one can. You have to let everything happen as it happens," he scoffed again, "and stop worrying about everyone else and start worrying about yourself. Why do I have to constantly keep telling you that?"

I didn't like the answer, but truthfully, I figured from the beginning that there was absolutely nothing that I could do to really help him. Sometimes there isn't always a quick fix solution, sometimes I guess only time can heal old wounds, and whatever happens, happens, we just have to flow with it and make it the best that we can.

"Okay, okay." We still held each other for a while before finally two minutes later we let go. "So, where is your mom?"

"Work. She's been taking on double shifts lately."

"Oh." I looked at my feet, already figuring why. Someone had to pay the bills, and since it wasn't going to be his father, then it had to be his mother. He easily picked up on my change in demeanor, from my downcast eyes and slightly slouched shoulders.

"Seth, get out…please? I love you, but I have some things that I need to do." I looked up at him, silently questioning, silently worrying. "Ugh. Stop worrying. I'll be fine. I really just need to get a few things done and then I think I'll feel a little better." I was hesitant, but I bent.

"Okay," and I started towards the door.

"Look, I'll even call you later on tonight, okay?" I nodded.

"Okay. Don't you forget."

He chuckled, not loudly, but genuinely, which is more than good to hear. It was great to hear. "I won't. Now are you leaving or not?"

"Yeah yeah. So, I'll definitely talk to you later on?" He confirmed with a nod. "Okay. Bye then."

"Bye," and he closed the door behind me.

The bus ride home was about fifteen minutes, but hell, my mind wasn't as clustered with concern as it was before, and so I figured that I'd better walk the forty-five minute distance home and enjoy the elation for as long as it was going to last.

* * *

**FINALLY! All of the dramatics are out of the way (not entirely) and now comes all of the Seth/Paul stuff you all have been waiting for, and I mean it. I'm serious. It will begin next chapter. Damn I've been waiting for this moment for a long ass time! haha! I'm sure you all have to, and thank you for sticking around with me long enough to give it to you. Thanks awesome people :D...You all know who you are. lol**

** And lol to all of those who thought the last update I made was a new one. Sorry about that. I sort of just re-updated it. Why? Eh, I don't really know, but anyways, this is the actual update that should have been what was posted last time. **

**Well I hope you liked it, and I would love to hear all of your very special thoughts. :) **

**Next chapter, look forward to a smidgen of awkward romance. LOL! ;)**


	23. Speak My Language

**Speak My Language**

**Why did you change?**

_**-November 22**__**nd**_

_**7:30am**_

Embry called me last night. We talked for only half an hour, but it was more than enough to sate my anxiety. We scheduled to meet this afternoon at his place around 6:30ish. I was definitely looking forward to it.

Unfortunately however, it was one of those dreaded Monday mornings that everyone hated. It was not only dreadful to get up at such ungodly hours, but also the thought of going back to _my _routine was beyond exhausting just to think about.

I groaned. I might as well get it over with.

I got out of the bed and tried for the bathroom. It was occupied. I dragged myself back to my room to pick out my clothes for the day. Nothing caught my attention, so I decided on khakis that hugged my thighs just a little too tightly and hung just a little too lowly around my waist. Then I grabbed that first shirt I saw and tossed it on my bed.

The bathroom was still occupied. I groaned again. I languidly pulled my body down the stairs to find something to eat while I waited for Leah to get out of the bathroom. _I hate Mondays_, I thought to myself as I poured cereal into a bowl.

**X:~/~:X**

_**8:00am**_

Leah and I pulled into a parking space. We both let out exhausted, bitter groans. "Damn this place." She said what I was thinking. "I am so ready to graduate and get the hell out of here…just a few more months of hell and I'll be free."

"Too bad I can't say the same…I have another two years."

"Yeeah. I forgot about you…sorry." I just rolled my eyes and got out the car, tugging my fatigued body along with me to my locker.

To my surprise, when I finally raised my head from my feet, I saw Embry standing at my locker, waiting. I stopped when our eyes confirmed the other, and he grinned. He grinned toothily. Even his canines were showing, and I couldn't help but feel that it was feigned in some way.

Suddenly that grin disappeared and a death defying glare sharpened his eyes when a band of girls coming in my direction sauntered passed him, faces contorted in what could only be described as insatiable disgust. "What's wrong? Why'd you stop?" Leah asked from behind me, and before I could even open my mouth…"Oh hey Em!"

"Hey. How are you?" Embry's face was fixed back into a smile as Leah approached him. I did the same.

"Oh, well I'm pretty darn fabulous. Thanks for asking. But I feel like I should be the one asking you that question."

He shook his head. "Oh no. I'm actually doing really well myself. Are you ready, Seth?" He asked too quick, suspiciously, as though he was ready to run off somewhere.

"…huh? Am I ready for what?"

"For the reason you got up this morning," he stated to me. I still didn't get it. Why the riddles? "For class, Seth."

"Oh. Yeah. Let me just get my things." I opened my locker and disappeared into it.

"So Embry, everything is okay now?" She asked.

"Yup." He hesitated. "…actually, everything is going _really_ good now."

"Oh that's good…so your parent's decided not to get the divorce?" As soon as the words spilled from her lips and my ears managed to perceive their meaning, I could tell…I just could tell…oh how I could just _tell_ something wasn't right. Something was very, _very_ wrong…or it at least would be very soon.

My body numbed and my heart slowed drastically. She knew…_How did she know_? I was appalled by the words, and minutely, even at Leah for a second. _I didn't tell her, did I? So how did she know?_ I mean, Leah was certainly intuitive, but it would require her to be a mind reader or psychic in order for her to know that.

"Embry?" Leah was calling his name. _Oh god…Em_. I couldn't even begin to fathom what must be going through his head right now. "Are you okay?" I turned to look at him from behind my locker. His face…his face…my god his face…it looked as though it was turning purple, as though he had caught his breath in his chest and kept it there for far too long, completely unaware.

Then his eyes turned on me, and I read his mind. I knew exactly what he was thinking without him even have to give me a look or utter a single word. He thought it was me. I just knew he thought I told her, but my words were stunned and all I could do was fervently shake my head. Leah had closed her locker and approached him.

"Embry, are you—"

"E-Embry, let's go!" I stuttered suddenly when my voice returned to me. I reached my hand out for him to take. "Let's go before we're late for class," before he could even attempt to move, "Now! Hurry up!" I shouted at him.

"Seth!" Leah scolded. "Don't—"

"It's been you this entire time…" I shook my head. I slammed my locker door shut and I tried to approach him.

"Em, no. It's not like that at all." I reached out for him. "I didn't—" but he slapped my hand away, furious.

"From the very beginning," he accused chiefly. "It's been you. You told her! No wonder everyone knows everything…it's been because of _you_ all of this time!"

I couldn't believe this. How could he really be accusingly me? Of all people, he accused _me_! and with the most intensive eyes that I was certain wanted to burn me to ashes.

"Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute." Leah stepped in between us. "Somebody tell me what the hell is going on here?"

I ignored her. "Embry, I did _not_ tell her anything. I swear to you I didn't." He only scoffed and shook his head in incredulity. I could tell just from the look in his eyes, which still glared avid hatred toward me, that he was not going to believe me, and that he has thrown away rationality, and as far as he was concerned, I betrayed him and his trust.

"You know what…I see why you always wanted to pry into other people's lives. Because you know yours fucking _sucks_ and you just want to make everyone else just as miserable as you!" He shouted ardent, causing a scene. The few people who had not gone to class or were just arriving, quitted their saunters and focused their attention on the scene at hand. Embry scoffed disdainful, almost as though spitting in my general direction. "Misery really does love company, doesn't she?"

I could hear some subtle murmurs amongst the crowd of eavesdroppers. Most of which noted Embry as either "that's that home wrecker…he's at it again" or "there he goes again... seeking attention," and then I heard a scoff before they finished with, "What a slut."

It made me angry to hear that these are the things they think of my friend. "Whoa, Embry." Leah interjected again, facing him with a scowl of her own. "I like you, but cool it. Seth has been nothing short of a good friend to you."

"No! He has _not _been a friend to _me_. To me all he has ever been was a burden. That's all he ever was, a fucking nuisance in my ear." No one, and I do mean no one, could possibly understand how his words hurt me so badly. He took a knife and just drove it right into me. "You like spreading news…well here's some news for everyone…" and he turned away to the crowd of students, and screamed, "_My parents are getting a divorce_!"

The students gasped, strangling their breaths in their chest. It was all so dramatic. "…and it is all because of _him_…Edward's rebound slut!" His finger pointed intently on me. Even though Leah stood between us, who was blistering with rage, there was no mistaking that he was pointing through her, and at me.

As soon as the words were out, again I heard murmurs echoing from the crowd, but this time they were about both of us. I heard them saying things like: "Wow! To hell with the _Young and the Restless_, this is some drama for you right here. My new favorite show: _The_ _Gay and the Gayest_" and "Damn…_two_ home wreckers…no wonder they were friends."

"Embry…" Leah snarled. She had everyone's attention but mine, which was still given to Embry. Her fists were balled, and her eyes were bulging with indignation. Her wrath was visibly steaming from her body, yet her tone was as controlled as could be. I felt that if she raised her voice, things would have gotten out of hand and she knew this. "If you don't walk away, _right now_…I cannot promise you that I won't hit you..." then murmurs about Leah erupted. "…just walk away, now."

Embry looked at me in hate filled disgust. "You were never a real friend to me," he spat. "Not a real friend at all," and he turned and walked away. "…and in case you haven't figured it out…I _fucking_ hate you, and this time…I mean it…so stay the hell out of my life."

A piece of me shattered then. A piece that I knew was irrevocable. It shattered, and I felt myself bleeding on the inside from my jaggedly, broken heart. I didn't even see him leave. My vision had been obscured within blackness. My eyes were wide open, yet I could see nothing.

The late bell had rung long ago, but students were just then beginning to disperse to their respective classes, leaving just Leah and I. One fuming, the other lost in obscurity. I obviously was the latter of the two manners.

"…Seth," Leah started after she had calmed herself enough. I didn't look at her, my eyes were still tamed on the spot Embry had left.

"Who told you Leah? Who told you that Embry's parents were getting a divorce?!" I was shouting at her. She wasn't to blame for any of this, so I don't know why I was doing it, but I was. "Who told you, and why would you even ask him about?! God, Leah that was just stupid!"

"What?!" She fixed her glare on me. "Seth, you need to calm down."

"No! You should have just—"

"Look! You need to check yourself, and change that tone." She bit off. "And while you're at it, you need to look at who is in your corner. I wasn't the one who just went off on you, that wasn't me. I was the one who was trying her hardest not to punch him in the goddamn face…" She snarled through clenched teeth.

She was right, and after a while I took a deep breath and accepted it. I had no right to be upset with her, not even in the slightest. "All I did was ask him a question, and he flipped out. He said everything was fine. How was I to know that he was lying?"

She wasn't to know that. She couldn't have possibly have known. I took another deep breath. "…I'm sorry. I just…just don't know what to do. Every time something seems to be going right, something else comes up and screws it all up all over again. I just don't know what to do."

"Well, right now, the best thing to do is to go to class, because honestly, I am not in the right state of mind to be giving advice about any of this." The words sounded strained over her gritting teeth. "I am so beyond pissed that I just want to hit something, anything. So I need to go, calm myself, and then we can discuss what the hell just happened…whatever the hell it was. Okay?"

I nodded unsurely, but nonetheless consented. "Go to class. I will talk to you later." Without an utterance I shuffled around her and up the stairs.

I was late to my first hour math class.

**X:~/~:X**

_**3:05pm**_

Embry hadn't spoken to me all day, save for his outburst earlier. But I guess I didn't expect him to. I didn't try to plea my innocence, because, just as Leah said she needed to calm down and I needed to calm myself as well, I think it would be wise to let Embry do the same before approaching him about it again. And also because when he walked away from the scene he had caused earlier he didn't go to first period, or fourth, and I didn't see him at lunch either. I don't know where he went, but even if I did I knew it would be smart not to intrude in his life right now and to just give him time.

However, though I reasoned not to speak to him in hopes that he would later be rational enough to talk to I had allowed the thought that Embry might not ever trust me again come into my head. That wasn't good for me, especially since I was already on an emotional rollercoaster before the day even started, which worsened by Embry shattering some part of me that I was still uncertain of. It had yet to really hit me, and I figured it would at the worst possible time. Just the thought of all of these things kept the rollercoaster going.

Not only that either. But since Em's tirade about me being the cause of his parents' divorce and basically being Edward's "rebound" guy, I've also been receiving ominous scowls from some people I didn't even know. And let's not even mention the lunch room and the murmurs floating about with my name attached to the comments being said, let's not even start on that, otherwise this book would never get finished.

…

… …

… … …

Fine. If you really want to know that badly. Let's just keep it short and say this: I was just about every bitch, slut, fagget ass, hoe, home wrecking whore one would ever encounter who didn't even deserve "friends" but instead I deserved to get my ass kicked. And my "soft looks" were just deceiving. I was nothing more than a whore that only looked to fill his holes—which ones they were talking about, I didn't know, and I don't think I wanted to know. I can use my imagination, and ten times out of ten, I'm more than likely correct.

So, yet again, there I was, in my Earth Science class looking to escape it all, just like Friday. And exactly like before I found myself sitting on the floor near my locker with my back pressed against some other kid's locker, the heel of my palms digging into my eyes.

I couldn't take this anymore. I hated it all. I hated this place. I just wanted to leave. I couldn't wait until the end of the year when we would move so I could just get the hell away from all of these people and these problems. I know I'm not supposed to run from my problems, but I can't face them…not anymore, not without Em, not on my own.

I needed help. I needed somebody…anybody to help me. It wasn't even ten seconds later when I curled into myself and started crying. I didn't scream or make a big scene or anything. I just sniffled and let tears fall down my face, unable to hold them back any longer.

What else could I do? I mean really, what other alternative was there besides crying? Getting up and trying again. I did that already…too many times to count and all I did was get knocked right back down. Should I have went and confronted Embry and made him listen to me? Well shit, I did that too, and again, I'm back on my ass. Should I just keep it all in and say that life goes on? Well ha ha, I did that too…with Collin. The results were not that far from each other. The only difference is, with Collin, I found myself hunched over a toilet seat puking out innards from the depression, and after I got finished doing that…I was back on my ass. So for once I decided to just stay there and do the only thing I hadn't so far, and that was cry about it all ad stay away from my problems.

_I just want…I just…_I didn't know what I wanted. I couldn't say I wanted things to go back to the way they were, because arguably, things weren't that much better, and I can't say I want for the future to come sooner because who is to say that it would be any better than things were now. I just didn't know what I wanted and I didn't know what to do about it.

"You here again." Paul's all too recognizable steely voice intonated through my ears. I didn't try to move. I didn't even try to wipe my tears away. I wanted him to go away, that was one thing that I knew I wanted. I ignored him and hoped that he would do so. He didn't. Instead his tone became harsher, and his "accent" came out fully when he said: "An' what da' fuck you cryin' fo'…stop tha' shit!"

"Just…just le-leave me alone." He snarled. I was making him upset. I didn't know how. I hadn't done anything to him. _I just want him to leave me alone!_ I screamed at myself.

"I'm not gon' say tha shit again…gitcho yo' ass up." I didn't move. Then he got really angry apparently, because the next thing I knew I was up and being slammed into some random kid's locker. My feet were walking on air and I looked up at him and into his stones; his eyes as hardened as a ruby rem, flaring with rage. I thrashed against him. What the hell was his problem?!

I don't know what made me do it, or even how I was able to do it, but what happened next left us both standing stupefied—well I was actually left on the ground after my balled hand collided into his toned jaw and he dropped me. My breath had instantly caught in my chest and my eyes broadened in disbelief.

I didn't want to look up at him looming over me, but I did. To say that he was stunned would definitely had been an understatement, he was way passed that point. The look in his eyes was not anger or contentment, but genuine confusion.

He moved away from me. "Let's go." He stated his eyes intently trained on mine the entire while. I didn't move, and suddenly his eyes hardened as they lied upon me, but I shook my head at him. He was going to kill me; I just knew he was.

"It wa'n't a question, so let's go." I still did not move. Well, save for the tremors of fear that ravaged my body, but that doesn't count. He bared his teeth, straining the growl that came behind them. "If I gotta drag yo ass down this hall, I will…" I was obviously hesitant. That is, until I noted him moving towards me, his eyes never leaving mine as I crawled back onto my feet.

"I…I didn't mean for that to happen, h-honestly…I didn't." He didn't speak to me. He gave me one last look before he turn back and cut the corner.

I was left alone.

I had two options. One was to either turn in the opposite direction and run like hell, or, the second option, go with Paul, wherever it was he wanted to take me. _Run…run like hell in the other direction_, I told myself, but something advocated for the latter option. It, like before, wanted me to go with him. I was inclined to do the former and just run. I mean, it made sense, but my body moved forward towards Paul.

An engine revved.

_Where does he plan on taking me_? I inquired inwardly. The endless amount of possibilities swarmed my mind at once. Before my imagination could even contort any of those possibilities I was in his red convertible and we were lashing out of the parking lot before I knew it.

**X:~/~:X**

_**3:50pm**_

I really needed to calm down with my outrageous imaginative thoughts. We went to _The Spot_ again, and again that same waitress lady, whose name I constantly forgot, pissed Paul off and again, we sat in his regular booth and he paid for the both of us.

I did not discover anything as I had before about Paul mainly because I didn't try to. I didn't want to. The thought actually reminded of what I wanted to ask him the last time we were here, but I didn't. Eh…it just didn't seem like the right time to go into personal things and try to figure him out when I couldn't even figure out my own life, granted that I could never do that in the first place, but even still, I knew it would've been too much.

After he finished eating however, he again left me to stand outside and smoke a cigarette until I finished my meal and I joined him outside.

A streak of sunlight blistered through autumn's clouds of grey, parting them like Moses and the Red Sea, shining directly on my face. I could peg this stream of light as a coincidence, or I could nail it into my analytical mind as a metaphor, seeing as though this light shone through the clouds twice since I'd been here with Paul, but I'm not going to go that far into it.

Paul flicked his remaining tobacco on the ground, and smothered it with his foot when he noted me standing beside him. "C'mon," and he started off across the street and back to his car. I followed.

We got in and I buckled up. He settled in and took a sip of the can of Red Bull that's been in the cup holder since we left the school. He shifted the car into Drive and then we were pulling out of the lot. But instead of heading back in the direction of the school he made a left.

"Where are we going?" I asked while staring out the window. He didn't answer. "P-Paul, where ar—"

"I tol' you not ta call me tha'." I looked at him tentatively,l

"I don't know what else to call you?"

"Then don't call me anything." I didn't say anything. We sat in silence while I mulled over what he said. I didn't know how to not call someone something, as though they didn't have an identity. _Maybe that's it, maybe he doesn't want one. Maybe he doesn't want to be here…maybe he wants to die…_I rolled my eyes at my extreme thoughts. _Okay well maybe not die, but..._and then it came to me, _perhaps it's not that he doesn't want an identity, perhaps he just doesn't want the one he has now._

"Why?" I intended to ask myself the question but instead I asked it aloud, because he answered.

"'Cause I said so…an' until you can speak _my_ language, you won't understand anyways."

I didn't say anything more of it, even though I still didn't know what to call him. _Speak his language_? I asked myself. But instead of pondering over his words for too much longer, I asked: "Where are we going? School is back the other way." He didn't answer me. "…Pa—uhh, I mean…hey, did you hear me?"

"You wanna go back?" I didn't want to go back. Not at all, but that didn't mean I wanted to go wherever he wanted to take me either.

"…no, but—"

"'Den sit der an' keep ya mouth shut." I did. I was still uncomfortable though. I was so obviously uncomfortable which I was sure was clearly indicated through my ceaseless shifting in the chair; back and forth, looking out the window, at the steering wheel, briefly at him, and then back out the window again to start it all over. "…Chill…ain't nothin' 'bout ta happen ta you. I ain't gon' do nothin', and I ain't got no body waitin' ta do nothin' either." I paused.

"I didn't—"

"I know tha's what'chu was thinkin'…" I knew my shifting was noticeable and all, but he hadn't even untamed his eyes from the road to look into my eyes long enough to deduce something like that. "I could feel tha' much."

That was surprising—the fact that he could feel it. _I didn't think he could feel anyth_—_shut up!_ I caught myself mid-thought. _Stop lying to yourself. You know damn well he could feel things other than that superficial anger he lets off, _and then my conscience weighed in on the matter. _You are still thinking of him as some sort of "monster", aren't you?…Let it go_.

I thought my conscience wasn't talking to me anymore. _I am you, you dumb fuck!_ Yeah, I'm pretty harsh on myself. But I was right. I knew it was more to Paul than what he let on, yet at the same time, it is so hard to look at him as anything other than…_a monster_, my conscience supplied for me. I agreed. I had to stop thinking of him as _that_ if I ever wanted to understand my own feelings towards him.

_Exactly…and also_, I started to myself,_ think of it like this: would you ever have feelings for a "monster" like him, for someone you thought to be so vile and ugly at heart? Would you ever like anyone like that? No. No you would not, and so therefore, Paul—or whatever his name is—can't be a monster, can he? He is good. You know this, and he knows you know this, or else do you think he would be doing all of this for you? What makes you so special? Because you can see him as more than just this mass of hatred, but as a human being, as a person _with_ feelings…as someone…like you…right? _

…

… …

… … …

"…right. Like me." I whispered into the window.

…

… …

… … …

…and I let him take me wherever he wished to go.

* * *

**Okay! I am soo soo soo soo soo soo soo soo sooooo very sorry for how absolutely LONG this took me to complete. It was actually supposed to be a hell of a lot longer than this, however, I felt that I kept you guys waiting long enough as it is and I can only write for so long every 2 or 3 weeks so I figured I would end it here and immediately start off where I wanted this chapter to go with the next one. **

**Again, I am terribly sorry! Some people have been PM-ing me about the update and I apologize that I gave you guys false dates. I just wasn't able to get it done then. **

**But I hope you enjoyed it (even somewhat) and I will try to have the next chapter up a lot sooner than it took this one. **

**Au revoir! Until next time ****:) **


	24. True Consequences

**True Consequences**

**Why did you change?**

**_- November 22nd _**

**_4:10 pm_**

I began to worry about if Paul and I would make it back in time before Leah got out of practice and noticed that I had skipped class. I had zoned out as soon as we left the parking lot, imagining the things that she would say if she had found out.

She would be livid.

I kept imagining her with razor sharp teeth with a hideous glare that strained her brows just a bit too much. And I imagined her tearing Paul's head right off his shoulders and tossing it aside as though it was no difficulty to decapitate a man with just her bare hands.

The image gave me chills.

The slam of the car door shocked me back from my daze. The cracking of locks resonated through my ears as I noted Paul walking to stand in front of the car.

I got out.

"Hey," I moved to the front with him. "Where are we?"

He looked at me briefly before looking away "…you was starin' up here last time…"

"Hm…up here?" I didn't even know where "up here" was. I looked around for anything familiar. Nearly straightaway, about a quarter of a mile up, I saw the tree from before; the tree which I noted as the sole protector of the city, overlooking everyone and everything.

"…I thought you wanted ta come," I turned to him, finding his gaze locked on mine. His eyes hardened right away though. "…but from da look on your face, I guess not." I could feel nothing less than tremors of disbelief shuddering through me, and I was certain that the same disbelief I felt was engraved into the incredulous expression he perceived.

The measure of disappointment in his eyes was evident, and he turned swiftly to get back into his car. I couldn't find speech fast enough to stop him and my eyes followed him.

I didn't know how to react to what he did. _He…_How was I supposed to react? I mean, he did sort of go out of his way, because he had thought this was where _I_ wanted to be. _He thought enough of me to—_What did I do to make him—_Why_?

The horn blared loudly and I jolted back from my thoughts, my eyes still tamed on Paul through the windshield as he glared contritely back into mine. "Let's go!" I didn't move. I felt ill. Not physically, but morally. He did this for me and I couldn't as much as muster up a thank you? It was ethically horrible.

His palm slammed into the horn again. "Git in tha damn car befo' I leave yo' ass up here." I moved then and did as he said. I was drawn to say something then, but the lucidity of speech still could not catch up to my brain.

We went from Park to Reverse, and then from Reverse to Drive, and then we were gone. I looked out of the passengers rear view mirror at the tree and watched as it become smaller and smaller in the distance. And I noted that the further we drove away from it the less my heart palpitated against my chest. Then, when finally I could see the tree no more, I sighed and shifted in my seat so that I was now facing the front.

I made out Paul's reflection against the windshield in the evening's daylight. I glance at him then. My heart's pounding against my chest slowed, but it still pulsed faintly so that I felt its beat in my ears.

I said nothing just noted the dejection lingering in his eyes. However, I found myself staring back into the mirror, wishing for the tree to return.

sighed again.

**X:~/~:X**

_- **4:30pm**_

We were nearing the school. I could see the flag wavering in the wind. I turned to the clock on the radio and noted the time. _It should only take us about ten more minutes._ My body went lax in my seat and I closed my eyes as a sense of relieve fell over me. _Good._ _We'll_ _make it back in time before Leah gets out_.

I opened my eyes and stared through the windshield again, not focusing on anything in particular. I honestly could not stop thinking of what Paul had tried to do, of what it was supposed to have meant, not only for me, but for the both of us. _The look in his eyes…the sadness there when he felt rejected…What did it mean_?

Paul's more than irritable snarl tore me from my thoughts. "We gotta stop fa' gas." I don't think he was asking me, but I nodded stiffly anyways. "It's a lot ova' der." _A lot_? I turned to look out the window and noted the blue gas station filled with cars being pumped with gas. _Oh, he means a gas station._ I laughed inwardly. _He calls it a "lot." Funny. Hm, I wonder where he's from_?

We pulled over into the station and waited behind a muffler-less 1997 Saturn for about five minutes before taking its spot at the pump. It was complete silence as we waited, and oddly enough I wasn't uncomfortable with it. He seemed to be though, and it was noticeable.

He drummed on the steering wheel with his thumbs and stared irately at the man fueling his car. Every thirty or so seconds his scowl went deeper and deeper into his brow. Then I moved and his eyes cut to me, but turned away just as swiftly when our eyes met. It happened constantly, and when I realized that he could not stare at me I started to do it purposefully; experimentally of course…and yes, sometimes for amusement to. It's not often that I get him uncomfortable.

I stopped myself from thinking about that statement, but I noted it in my memory for later. _I make him uncomfortable…I'll file it for later._ I just didn't feel like thinking about all of it at the moment. So I didn't.

Paul went in, paid for the gas, came out and began pumping. I looked at the clock again, noting its time of 4:40 pm. I didn't panic though. _I still have time. I'll just have to run._ I scoffed. _It's not like I'm a stranger to running._

He got back in when he finished and then we were back on the road again. It took us approximately ten minutes before we were pulling into one of the empty parking spaces. He pulled the shaft into Park and killed the engine, but he didn't move to get out. I sat there for a little while longer, enduring the thickening silence between us.

"Um…well…t-thanks." I said through the tension. He grunted his reply to me. I wanted to say more. I wanted to tell him thank you for thinking of me and that I would actually enjoy being there on top of that hill with him and that I was sorry if I made him feel rejected at all. I wanted to say all of this, but I didn't. I just opened the door and got out.

"…Aye," I heard him growl before I closed the door. I ducked back down and waited for whatever his next few words would be. His eyes darted aimless until finally, "…nuthin'," he said instead. I couldn't help but notice the hint of sadness in his voice. "Fuck it, nevamind," he corrected more sternly with earnest eyes that stared directly into me.

"Oh…okay then. Well I'll see you later then. Thanks again." He grunted at me again and I closed the door. I walked away. _I can't believe this…I'm actually about to walk away from him without trying to figure this out…without trying to understand his unusual gesture. Even more so, without even thanking him for trying._ It was utterly morally disgusting to not, at the very least, thank him for trying. But I didn't get to walk far before I felt an unfamiliar pang against my chest.

It wasn't physical pain that I felt, but an intangible, internal twinge. It stung subtly for a while and I tried to ignore it. But it didn't go away. It wouldn't go away no matter how much I persisted for its subsidence. It almost felt as though it buried itself there, behind my sternum, until eventually the subtle stinging started to turn into aching. I fisted my shirt over my chest and clenched my teeth against it. The pain grew so intense that I stopped walking altogether.

I craned my neck over my shoulder when I heard the rev of Paul's convertible resound. It revved again and the knot in my chest tightened and stressed. I clenched my teeth tighter. Was I really about to let him leave without saying something…anything at all?

I remembered what my mom had said to comfort me when Collin and I had broken up. I remember her words clearly because they were the words that really helped me to get up and pick up the many shards of broken heart pieces that collected at my feet.

It was two weeks after the incident, and Leah wasn't around and my mind could do nothing else but think of Collin. Not long afterwards I was in hysterics; a crying sniffling mess. Mom had come into my room and, without asking why, she pulled me into her, so that I was cradled tightly into her chest. My tears fell liberal, and I could do nothing to stop them.

She shushed me softly while she ran her fingers through my hair; meagerly solacing. Too frightened to let go, I clung to her. I buried my head into her, shielding myself in her embrace. "It's okay," she had whispered.

"M-mom. I-I tried. I-I tried s-so hard," I had choked out of my hoarse throat. "I re-really, really did." A sniffle here, a cry there. "I-I-I tried to h-help him…b-bu-but I couldn't. I-I'm sorry." I fisted her top and clenched onto her tighter. "I am so sorry!"

She just kept shushing me and rubbing my head softly, gingerly. "It's okay baby. I know you did. When everyone else gave up, you were there. I know." Then she pulled me from her and looked down into my tear stained eyes, and I looked up into her watery ones smiling back at me. "But that's it now, okay? That's enough…You have to understand that…all we can ever do for each other, as people…is try. And you did. You really, really did…So now you've did your part, but now it is time for him to do his and acknowledge all that you've done. He has to want to see you and what you did before you can try and help him any more than you already have." Tears once again threatened to fall at the thought of giving up on him, but once I saw my mother shedding tears of her own while still trying to smile, mine stopped.

"Seth…sweetheart," she sniffled. "You have to stop now. You have to stop letting him hurt you, because seeing you and Leah like this…crying over them…it hurts me…me and your father. And we can't take it for too much longer. So please," she resisted her tears from falling and smiled full force at me, "know that you tried, and that you can do no more than that. All you can do is try sweety…and you did…you really did…"

Paul's engine revved again. Just remembering that day brought tears to the edges of my eyes. _All we can do is try…he did his part, but now I have to do mine_. I turned quickly as I noted Paul pulling out of his parking space and I ran back over to him and pounded on the driver side window. He jumped, startled but rolled it down anyways.

"What tha' hell is wrong witchu?!" He barked with his usual menacing glare mounting his features. "You tryna break my damn window or somethin'?!" I couldn't help but smile to myself over his reaction.

"Sorry…but thank you…"

"You said that already! What da' fuck ya want me ta say: 'Your welcome?' There you go. Now get out tha' way so I can leave." I laughed quietly at him, and noted that the knots in my chest were loosening themselves.

He scowled.

"No that's not what I wanted to thank you for—"

"Then what?"

I laughed again. "For what you tried to do earlier…you know…for taking me to the top of the hill." I saw him swallow, as though the words had caught him off guard and made him nervous. Instinctively I questioned his reaction to myself. "So, thank you." He didn't say anything for a while. "…you can say you're welcome now."

"W-what?" He stammered, and again I noted it. I realized that the more I seem to become comfortable around him the more uncomfortable he became. "…ya welcome. Now can you move so I can leave?"

"…Yeah, sure…but so you know, I really would have liked to be there."

"…Why you ain't say nuthin' before we left then?"

"I, uhh…" Well I wasn't going to actually tell him why. I wasn't going to tell him that I was so taken aback by his gesture that it literally left me speechless. "Well…I don't…really know why," I lied and it left a disgusting taste in my mouth, "but I still would like to go. I mean, if y-you wouldn't mind taking me there again." I bit my lip nervously and fiddled with my thumbs.

My eyes met his and I quickly looked away, but I could still feel his amber orbs staring at me. Unpleasant or pleasant shudders—I wasn't sure which it was—crawled over my skin. "Ta'night." He said. I turned to him with wide eyes. "Be ready ta'night when I come and getchu."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah ta'night. That a problem?" I should have said yes considering that Mom or Dad would never allow it once they found out who I was going with, but aside from them, I was sure that Leah would sooner rather kill me herself than let me go anywhere with Paul. I should have answered yes, but I didn't, and said no. Paul narrowed his eyes on me skeptically, but didn't protest against my word. "Aight then…ten."

I just nodded, and watched him pull out of his space and flay out of the parking lot. I signed before running my fingers through my hair._ How am I going to explain_—"Seth!" The tone that I had been called frightened me a bit. It was as though I had done something wrong and they were pissed about it. I turned and saw Leah glowering deathly at me from the driver side of her car.

My eyes broadened impossibly large. My heart raced and my mind went into a panic. The only word that could formulate coherently in my mind, and that managed to find refugee passed my lips—"…shit…"

**X:~/~:X**

**_- 6:30pm_**

I couldn't pretend that Leah had not seen who I was with because she did. And since she had seen him she'd been chewing my head and ear off the entire way home. Then, long after we had made it home, she continued. I had hoped that she would at least quit while we were in the middle of having dinner, but of course she didn't.

And now, we were all—Mom, Dad, Leah, and I—at the dinner table enjoying, or trying to enjoy, our supper. But of course, slamming her fork down on the table—"So tell me Seth," Leah started. "Is that why Embry was so fucking pissed at you?"

"Leah!" Mom scolded. "Language."

"Embry is upset with you?" Dad interjected, looking to me for an answer. I hid my face in my plate.

"No." I answered.

"Then what are you talking about?" He asked Leah.

"I mean yes." I corrected.

"What? He is?" I looked up to answer him.

"Yes he is," and then I turned to Leah. "And no, that is _not_ the reason." She glared at me and I reciprocated it.

"Embry is upset with you?" Mom jumped in. "Why?" My eyes never tore from Leah's, and hers never wavered from mine.

"Because…Leah opened her big mouth and started asking—" Leah immediately jumped up out her chair, and the bang it emanated startled me.

"That's bullshit Seth, and you know it!"

"Hey! What did your mother just say about your language?" Dad reprimanded then.

"No it isn't. Because you opened your mouth about things that didn't involve you he thought that I was the one telling everyone about his parents' divorce." Leah sneered.

"I would think so too, seeing as though you haven't been very honest lately, have you?"

"That's enough Leah!" Mom reproached. "I don't know what's going on between you two, but it needs to end right now, and I mean it."

"Tell us all how you've been skipping school, Seth." Leah wasn't going to let up. I could tell from the look in her eyes. I swallowed nervously. Mom and Dad turned to me, their brows furrowed in puzzlement and disbelief.

"You've been skipping school?" Dad's face scrunched into a scowl.

Leah chuckled sardonically. "And that's not even the best part…" They both faced Leah then when she commenced to speak again. I clenched my teeth. "You're going to have a cow when you find out who he's been skipping with..."

"Who?" Mom turned back to me. "Embry?"

"No not Embry." Leah answered and smirked. "Embry has too much damn sense to do something that stupid."

"Then who?" Dad probed.

"Paul."

"Paul?" Mom questioned pensively. "Paul…the one that is friends with those boys who harass you? Why would you be with him, Seth? Sweetheart, I don't understand."

"The very same one, and—" I had had enough and jolted up out of my seat as well. Anger blistered from inside of me and I was certain to glare the lot of it at Leah.

"God Leah, shut up! You don't know a goddamn thing! So just...just _shut the fuck up_!" I screamed. It felt like time had stopped all of a sudden. Everyone stared at me though in absolute incredulity. All I heard was the labor of my own breathing from the release of so much anger.

"How dare you." I heard the words mumbled passed Leah's lips while her eyes remained trained on me. "Who are you to say that to me? To say that I don't know anything?" Then a sudden rage enveloped her and it made my body shake. Her glowered was feral, scorching like a livid volcano. "How the hell can you tell me to shut up when I am the _only one_, the _only fucking one_ who stands up for you?! I was there from the beginning, protecting you, fighting for you, standing up for you…how fucking dare you Seth!"

"…y-you don't know him." Her teeth clenched at my words and her hands balled into fist over the table.

"Alright that's _enough_," Mom interjected jumping out of her seat. "Everyone just calm down. This has gone too—"

"You don't know _anything_ about him," I continued over my mother and I heard a snarl elicit from Leah and her eyes darkened, "so how can you—" I felt my head snap abruptly on my shoulders and everything stilled. Everyone's breath caught in their chests, and tears hung at the brims of my eyes before falling.

"Don't you _ever_ speak to me like that again." Leah seethed.

"Leah!" Mom shouted rushing over to me. She pulled me into bosom. I couldn't speak. All I could do was stare, wide eyed at nothing and allow my tears to fall. "I don't care if you're angry, you don't hit him!"

"She…s-slapped me." Breathlessly the words came out. And when I stiffly looked out from behind my mother's chest I saw Dad restraining Leah, tears threatening to fall from her eyes as well.

"Leah, sit down!" Dad struggled to keep her in his grasp.

"Let go of me!" She yelled over and over again until finally she managed to get free and pushed Dad away with all her strength and he fell on the floor. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't even move, and neither could Mom apparently, because she just stood there. "I'm getting the hell out of here!" Leah huffed, fatigued. "When you all somehow come upon some kind of commonsense then I'll be back, until then…just leave me alone."

She grabbed her car keys from the hook next to the door. "Come back here Leah!" Dad called out to her, rushing off behind her. "Put those keys back." She ran out without shoes and slammed the door behind her, the bang so forceful that I swear I heard the locks on the door bust.

Then, all I heard was Dad yelling after her, and Leah's car engine growling and her tires screeching against the pavement until I couldn't hear either one anymore.

Dad came back into the dining room, angry. He kicked Leah's chair that was still on the floor. Without even a word Mom's arms tightened around me and she began to cry into my hair. I let her. I didn't move. I couldn't.

Eventually, a long while after everything had happened, both Mom and Dad sat at the dining room table gripping their hair staring into space.

_So this is it_? I thought to myself. _The true consequences of Paul even being remotely in anyone's _life? I pondered over it as I finally made my first hesitant step toward the stairs, and to my room.

I closed the door behind me and sat at the edge of my bed.

_If so…then…do I even want to take my turn…and try…_? I lied down to rest. Sleep could not come at a better time. However, unfortunately for me…it did not come at all.

* * *

**Didn't take me nearly as long as before! :)**

**Well, let me know your feelings on this one.**

**Until next time! See ya! ;)**


	25. Our Baggage

**Our Baggage**

**Why did you change?**

**- November 22nd**

**_9:40_**** _pm_**

I lied awake, tireless, my thoughts raging rampantly. _What the hell is wrong with me_? The same question played over and over again in my mind. _Of all people…of all people_! I dug my palms into my eyes to try and dry the wetness there.

_I am such an idiot._

_Yes…yes you are,_ my conscience interjected. Ugh! I didn't have time for him. _Yeah, well who else are you going to talk to? Yourself?_ The sarcastic bastard. _You aren't even trying to figure out your next move, are you? All you're doing is lying here bitching and moaning over your mistake_.

_Shut up_, I answered. _I don't feel like dealing with you right now._

_Well shit, then when?_ _You didn't want to deal with me when you were with Paul earlier either. When are you going to stop running from yourself and your emotions and just accept them_?

_Stop talking to me_.

_How many times do we have to go over this Seth? I am you! If you want me to stop talking to you then go lie in a ditch and die somewhere._ I clenched my teeth. "Just leave me alone!" I growled aloud.

_Accept it_. "Accept what?! What the hell do you want me to accept? I will gladly do so if you will stop talking to me."

_You know what I—what _we_ want to accept, but _you_ just won't allow yourself to do so…You've known what it was since we first moved here from the Reservation. You've known what it was since we were young. It has only amplified itself more clearly when Collin left you and you put yourself back together…_ "Stop talking, right now." _You didn't put them together correctly. You're missing a few pieces…a few important pieces that—_

"Shut up! I don't want to think about this!" _When then?! When will you want to think about it? When will you finally accept the fact that you are damaged…damnit, _we_ are damaged. Why aren't you trying to _fix us?!

I sat up straight. I didn't want to hear any more of this. What did he—I—know about me? Ugh. I needed a distraction. I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with this. I looked over to my clock. _Paul will be here in a few minutes. _I contemplated my situation.

I could go with him, but should I really. What good would it do? Clearly he is nothing more than a bad omen, if what had happened was any indication. _But it was not a strong enough indication I suppose. _He interrupted again supposedly already knowing what I had decided to do. I growled internally at myself, but otherwise I said nothing at all.

Paul's presence brought about bad things I knew, but in the time that Leah had stormed off and left up until now; sometime between those hours I had decided that I wanted to take my turn. _The worse that could possibly happen has already happened._ I reasoned with myself._ What more could possibly go wrong_?

Normally when characters in movies says that line it is usually followed by them being stricken by lightning or something similar, but honestly, nothing would have been worse than being slapped by her again. That hurt more than anything I had ever felt in my life. I would get beat up a thousand times by _them!_ and even then the pain would not come close to the pain I felt only hours ago.

I needed the distraction from all of this, and since Paul was coming, why not take the occasion to not think for a little while, however short-lived it maybe.

I went and got ready—not really though. I only changed my school shirt and khakis into a plain black t-shirt and some dark blue denim jeans. It took me all of five minutes to do that and freshen up a little bit.

I wasn't sure if Mom and Dad were asleep or not. Chances were they were awake and restless just as I was. I wasn't planning on sneaking out though. If they saw me, then they saw me. I didn't care. However, they were not in the dining room, living room, or kitchen when I checked.

_Good_._ Then I don't have to deal with any of their questions or concerns._

I grabbed my jacket and scarf and I went outside, and waited for Paul on the porch. I figured that the night air would do me some good to help clear my head. I looked up at the moon in the sky. _Paul was once the moon; solid and alone_, I thought,_ and I was the sun; vibrant and accompanied by many._ I sighed and stared down at the pebble between my legs. "…but now…I don't know…" I thought of Leah. "…am I alone now too…I just don't know…"

I played with the pebble until he came.

**X:~/~:X**

**- _10:20_ pm**

He finally pulled up twenty minutes later, but I really hadn't noticed. My time with that pebble and my thoughts made it seem as though only five minutes had passed.

I got up and dusted myself off before moving to get into the passenger side. No words were spoken. Not until I noted what time it was on the radio. "You're late." I said, not even slightly enthused. I didn't really care, but I said it anyways.

"Git' over it." He rebutted. I just hn-ed and turned to stare out the window. I could see his reflection in the glass with the moon's scare light. His eyes were piercing calculative through the back of my head. I didn't like it, but I didn't say anything about it either. I just let him stare until he let go of whatever suspicions he had conjured in his head and finally decided to pull off.

The entire ride was accompanied in hollowed silence, only the natural sounds of breathing and the car resonating in the air resounded. I didn't make any attempts at conversation, and neither did he. I continued to stare forsakenly out of my window completely unaware of what else was happening around me.

"We here." He said suddenly through the forty-five minutes of utter stillness between us. I didn't speak. I didn't turn to face him. I just opened the door and stalked the quarter of a mile uphill. I don't even think I closed the door behind me, and when I heard the clank of two doors closing I figured that I didn't.

I reached the grassy hilltop. It was a lot larger than I had thought it was. I looked over to its protector. It was a lot taller than I had thought it was. I moved closer to it. I studied it for a short while until a compelling impulse to place my palm against its dry bark overtook me, and I did it.

It felt cold, and so old. Pieces of it crumbled against my palm the moment I touched it. It felt so old, but so alive. It wasn't centered at the top of the hill, but the ubiquitous branches and leaves sprouting from it covered the majority of the peak like a roof. Anywhere I moved I could not escape from underneath its leafy hood.

Slowly, I moved over to the edge of the hill. What I witnessed below I was certain that my imagination could never have imitated. It could never have imagined anything so breathtaking. The outlook of the city shrouded in darkness, in humble tranquility, its only source of lighting being the tall building's reflective glare of glimmering stars and the solidary fluorescent moon. Everywhere I turned the sight was stunning. The expansion of this beauty went further than my eyes could see, covering every direction in its totality, not an inch untouched by the nights splendorous grandeur.

I heard Paul's subtle breath behind me. However, he still did not speak. I turned and faced him, noting him leaning against the tree, his arms folded over his chest. His eyes did not seem to acknowledge mine, but instead his consideration was given to the same majestic darkness that seized my own attention.

I turned back to the city and sighed before deciding to sit down and continue enjoying it. "I use ta' come up here a lot," he suddenly said. I faced him again. "When I was a sophomore…I came up here a lot." I could tell that his mind was elsewhere with the way his eyes continued to look aimlessly into splendiferous darkness.

I expected to hear more words from him, more of him lost in his nostalgia, but I didn't. He didn't say anything after that. I noticed how his eyes began to glisten, almost as though sheened by tears, but they weren't. It was something else. I didn't know what it was, but I didn't think he was going to cry. He didn't.

"Wha'?" His brows furrowed. I guess I was staring for too long. Whatever. "Why you always starin' at me?" I didn't answer, and he didn't try to make me when I, instead, turned back and faced the darkened city again.

Silence had fallen upon us once more, until, softly, I started "…what—"

"What's wrong witchu?" He asked me all of a sudden. "You ain't said nothin' since we left…" I turned to him, but again, his eyes did not reach my own; still lost in nostalgia. His voice was soft—not soft, but gentle—no not gentle either…it was…it was… "It ain't like you." His eyes finally reached mine, and though I was upset, though I was beyond upset, I was startled. I could not deny what I knew I saw in his eyes, what I understood was there. His voice…it was not soft, nor was it gentle, but it was coarse by concern. I didn't understand why. It was so out of his character. He tore his eyes from mine. "…usually you askin' a thousand an' one damn questions an' won't shut the hell up."

I could not prevent the smirk that curved my lips, and again I turned away from him. "I was just about to ask you a question, but then you went and interrupted me…I was going to ask what it was that I should call you since, apparently, 'Paul' is not your actual name."

I waited for him to answer, and assumed that his silence was him contemplating if he would even answer at all. But he did. "Com'ere," was his answer.

"What," was my swift reply. But it was not as swift as my neck was, which crooked on my shoulders so that he could witness my dumbfounded expression. I was completely caught off guard. His brows furrowed again.

"I said com'ere." He growled, frustrated. His frustration was feigned. That much I could tell. Even still my heart skipped. I was reluctant, but I rose up and I moved closer to him. I sat in front of him, the gap between us shortened to about five feet, and I turned my body so that I faced him.

I looked up at him in expectancy. "So?" I waited. I waited…and I waited still until, "Are you going to answer my question or not?" I inquired after he had still not replied. He made a noise that I could not describe. I traced his movements as he sat down in front of me with his back leaning against the tree.

His eyes, which had closed, opened. "Answer my question first, an' den I'll answer yours." He finally responded.

I felt my brows crease. _What the hell was the difference_? "What difference does it make whose question is answered first?" I retorted.

"Then whatchu waitin' for? Talk."

I gritted my teeth. "…Fine. It doesn't matter." I submitted. My eyes shifted elsewhere as all that had happened recurred in my mind. And even when I did begin speaking they remained aimless in their hunt for something unknown; aimlessly wandering across the blades of grass between my knuckles, or the tree behind him, or the imminent night skies that surrounded us. "To make a long story short, my sister and I had a disagreement…about someone," I rubbed my fingers together against the grass timidly, "…and she left. She hasn't been back since six this evening." I tried sounding nonchalant and said, "That's it." I said it rather coolly if I say so myself.

He made another noise in the back of his throat that I could not describe. "…That's it," he mimicked nonchalant. My eyes cut to him and a meek gasp penetrated my lips. He was mocking me. "Wha'? You da' one who said it like tha'…like it ain't matter to you." What the fuck? He was really beginning to piss me off. I wasn't in the mood for this nonsense.

"It does." I corrected, though this time my voice didn't portray that same "cool guy" effect like last time. This time it sounded like I was whining, and I cringed internally at my own vocal betrayal.

"Don't say it like tha' 'den? If you care 'den act like it. Jus' 'cuz you say shit like tha' don't make it better." I didn't need this. I didn't need a fucking lecture from him. _Especially_, not him! He was the reason Leah left in the first place. He was the last fucking person on the face of this _Earth_ that should ever be giving me a goddamn lecture.

My hands balled into tight fists, and I felt my countenance strain into what felt like a glare, but it probably wasn't. His face however was skewed into an evident glare. There was no question about its fiery. I assumed he noted how my body tensed, because then he asked: "Whatchu bouta do? You gon' hit me?" I wanted to. I really wanted to. It was his fault she left, and I wanted to hurt him so badly for it.

But I couldn't. I couldn't even if I had the strength to win in a fight against him. I couldn't hit him, or anyone else. It wasn't in my nature to do, and I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I buried my anger and forced my fists loose, and I looked away from him, my eyes still darkened in anguish.

"I hate you." I whispered somberly.

"…So…So wha'? I don't give two shits if ya hate me…You ain't 'da only one." I was sure I wasn't. If he made other people this angry I'm certain there were many who hated him just as much as I did right now. Tears began to swell I was so fucking pissed. I was never so mad in my life. His voice was so "whatever" when he spoke. I just wanted to hurt him. "…Who was it?" His voice changed, but hearing it still made me upset.

A tearful sniffle slipped passed my lips. I balled my fist again in a vain attempt to prevent anymore sobs from escaping. It didn't make a difference. They still did. "Who was who?" I felt so weak crying in front of him like this.

It wasn't just because of him though, but many things. How many things have gone wrong today? Too many. I lost my two best friends in one day! I lost _both_ of them! And here he was trying to lecture me when it was his fault Leah left in the first place. I hated him so much!

"The one ya'll was fightin' about." I didn't answer him. I wiped my face with the back of my hand when I felt my first tear fall. I wasn't going to answer him. What did it matter if I had? What would it change? He wouldn't care either way, so why even bother? I figured my energy would be better spent on recollecting myself and concentrated on regulating my breathing and drying my tears.

I heard him scoff. "Whatever…you ain't gotta tell me." I wanted to scoff right back at him, but I didn't. I knew it wouldn't matter. I knew he wouldn't care, and I turned to him again, half-expecting his face to be skewed in anger, but it wasn't. His expression was in fact emotionless, but his eyes…his eyes, the feeling I got when I looked into his eyes I could not explain. Was it shock? Was it anger? I didn't know what it was. But his eyes seemed to gleam with the same concern that his voice held earlier. It seemed so out of his character.

I recomposed myself, and we sat there in another silent spell. This silence was ongoing, but it was to be expected being around him. We sat, engulfed in our own taciturnity. I managed to calm myself completely in my sullen quietness. I released my animosities, and centered myself.

I heaved one more heavy breath. "Are you going to answer my question now?" I asked softly. His amber eyes scanned over me before settling on something else in the distance.

"My name is Paul." He answered simply.

"Then why'd you say it wasn't?"

"…My name is Paul," he reiterated as if I didn't hear the nonsense the first time. I did. I heard it.

I heaved another dense breath. I couldn't understand it. I just couldn't, but I wasn't going to be upset about it, not anymore. I could have screamed at him, but what good would it have done? No good. It would not have done anything at all. Instead I waited. Not for anything in particular. I didn't expect him to say anything more. I didn't expect him to explain himself. He didn't. I didn't even know if I wanted to hear it. So I waited. Then, abrupt in the manner of thought, I began to speak the words that began to come to mind, all of them.

"Why are you so difficult? Why can't I just get you? Why can't I understand you? Why won't you let me?" I met his gaze. "I can't figure it out? I wreck my brain trying to understand, but I can't. You're too much. _This_," I stared purposeless at nothing, visions of everything protruding to the front of my mine, "…all of this chaos swarming my life is just too much. I thought I could handle all of it, I really believed I could, but then things got worse and spiraled out of control, and I didn't—don't know what to do about it, not any of it." Then I trained my gaze back onto him. "Then you…when I think I finally get you, you go and do or say something to prove that, I in fact, don't." I shook my head. "And I don't think I will…so I give up. I quit. What else can I do? I've exhausted everything I could think of...so nothing. There is nothing more I can do…I quit."

That was it. That's all I had to say. Then we sat shrouded in our cryptic silence staring at nothing.

"I seen you around…before you was gone be my 'tutor'…before all _this,_ I saw you." I focused on him and his words when he spoke. It would have been a lie if I said I wasn't surprised by the statement, because I was. "Ya might not've seen me, but tha's pro'lly 'cuz you was avoidin' me." I was.

I thought I saw a smirk tugging at one side of his lips. "Every time I saw you though, you was smilin', but'chu ain't ev'a show ya teeth…It ain't look natural…It look like it hurt, but'cha kept doin' it anyways. I ain't get it…not at first, but 'den I finally realized why ya smiled like tha'. Why you ain't eva look comfortable smilin'..." He paused, and I waited for him to finish, intrigue etched into my features. "…I realized tha' you did it 'cuz you don't know wha' it means ta be yo'self. Ya just adapted ta whoever was around you, but nev'a ta' yoself."

"What does that mean?"

He sighed a bothersome sigh and glared right into my eyes. "I jus' said it. Ya don't know how ta be ya'self."

My eyes scanned over him. He looked irritated with the way his forehead dented and his brows knitted together, and for some reason it made me smile. His glare dissolved almost suddenly, and his expression revealed a prominent anxiety as though he were suddenly uncomfortable. I don't know why he looked so abruptly anxious, but I didn't make a big ordeal about it. After all, I quit. "See, that's what I mean. Even if you say things clearly I still don't understand you."

His eyes darted away from me. "You really startin' ta irritate me." He snarled under his breath. I nearly rolled my eyes. I continued to smile. His eyes cut to me before swiftly looking elsewhere. "Back 'den when I asked you yo' name, you told me."

"Yeah. I told you what my name was—is."

"I believed you 'cuz I thought ya knew." My eyes crossed. What was that supposed to mean? "I said it ta myself ta remember it, but then I found out ya really didn't know it." I was completely lost. _What in the hell is he talking about_? "…an' since then I ain't eva called you by tha' name, 'cuz it ain't yours."

"Oookay…If it isn't mine, then whose is it?"

"Ya don't know how ta be yourself, so tha' name belongs ta anybody who made you lik' you are. You ain't you, ya jus' tha' work of somebody else." That was…kind of deep coming from him.

"Uh…so," I cleared my throat. "…what?" I was still confused.

His gazed settled on me from the corner of his eye, but it did not last for long and he looked away. "Like I said earlier…until you can speak my language, ya won't understand." I made a demurred noise and bowed my head to the grass between my legs. "…ya will eventually though…" he added, and then finished, "but it ain't gone be ta'night."

I hummed, oddly contented. I shifted my position so that my back faced him now, and I was staring out over the town below. I sat so the soles of my shoes touched on another, almost in a loose Indian-style. It wasn't a common way for me to sit, but I noticed that I was most relaxed when I did.

I felt…strangely at ease at that moment, but I was happy. It was an indescribable happy because I didn't know where it came from. Perhaps it came from me giving up on trying understanding Paul, or maybe it came from that he thought I will one day eventually understand him. Or perhaps it was something else completely. I didn't know. All I knew was that it was a strange feeling, but I liked it. I liked it a lot, but could not force back the smile that pinched the edges of my lips.

I had completely forgotten about Embry, and even Leah. I don't know if that was a good thing or not, but it felt nice not to be hindered by those qualms. I grabbed my own feet like a child. I was so happy, and I rocked. I rocked as though I had no worries at all, and for the moment, knowing it would be short-lived, I lived it, and I cherished it, and I kept it. I remembered it, not ever wanting to forget it.

"Say Paul?" I called, curiously. My mouth was still only reiterating the thoughts that surged into my mind; unfiltered and unrestrained.

He grunted.

"Why'd you tell me that?" I was curious to know. He didn't have to, but I wondered if he felt as though he did. It was an uncanny possibility, but nonetheless a thought that came to my mind.

"'Cuz you asked."

I shook my head. "No. I don't mean the name thing," he grunted again. "I meant why did you tell me all that other stuff? That you've been watching me…and stuff?"

"…'cuz…you confessed somethin' ta me, so I did tha' same." I hummed pensively to myself, recalling my "confession" —or so he calls it—of trying to "figure him out." I didn't think it was a confession, more of a giving up speech.

"Oh. That wasn't meant to be a confession, what I said. I just…I don't know, didn't know what else to do, so I quit." He grunted a third time, and I groaned. "Can you stop doing that?" I didn't turn to gauge his expression, because ten times out of ten he was probably scowling at the back of my head. "We're having a conversation for once…at real one at least, so can you use words please?"

I waited a while for his reply before I received his indifferent scoff. "Ya' ain't neva ask." I craned my neck over my shoulder.

"Hm?" I answered quizzically.

"Tha's not a word." He smirked.

"Oh." My face dropped, but then another complacent smile shaped my lips when I saw him smirk.

"Tha's better." I laughed. Yes, Paul made me laugh. Not like earlier today when I was at his car laughing nervously. This time I was genuinely laughing, and again I noticed he looked away from me and his countenance sculpted itself back into its stoic default. "You said you ain't kno' what else ta' do, but you ain't neva jus' ask whatchu wanted ta' know."

My smile dissolved.

He was right. I didn't ask. I mean, well I guess I tried to before, but I never could get to the point and I would just "beat around the bush" as they say instead of outright asking him what I wanted to know.

"You would have told me if I had?"

"Don't kno'…maybe. Everybody kno' somethin' about me, but ain't nobody ever ask me shit." He paused for a moment, and he looked my way before he started again. "I kno' you was tryin' figure me out, everybody do; teachers, therapists, everybody.. But you the second one I tried gettin'."

My heart raced at his statement. "M-me?" My mind was literally sprinting a mile a minute. "W-w-why?"

"'Cuz…ya' said we were the same." I caught my gasp in the back of my throat and kept it there pressing against my esophagus until it died.

_Really? So why didn't you ever ask me anything to try and figure me out_? I waited for his response, and after a whole minute of deathly silence and me brainlessly staring at him, wide eyed, I realized I never actually asked the question out loud. I probably looked really stupid just staring at him, absorbed in my own reveries.

Since I probably already looked foolish, I took this time to recollect my bearings. "Well, why didn't you ever ask me anything if you were trying to figure me out?" He turned his attention back to me, his eyes uninterested, presumably because of my very late reply.

"Thought tha' conversation was over." I delayed responding, and watched him until he proceeded on to answer my question. "…I did," was his simple answer before he again looked somewhere other than me, more engrossedly. "I asked you yo name." He clarified.

"That's it? What did that tell you?"

"Yo name." He again answered simply, and I berated myself. _Well duh, Seth! What else would it have told him. Ugh! Sometimes…just some freaking times. Ugh…_ "Then it told me wha' I jus' told you." I looked puzzled. I didn't have a mirror, but I know I did, because I was.

_What he told me?..._

_…About you not know how to be yourself,_ my conscience reminded. Then I happily cleared my expression of its puzzlement…_dumbass_. I rolled my eyes at him, or me…whatever.

"And what exactly does, 'me not knowing what it means to be myself', tell you?"

"Tha' you not all the way ta'gether." I quirked a brow.

"And what does that mean?"

I noted him smirk again._ I think that's the third, maybe fourth time tonight._ "I guess you alright, huh? Ya won't shut up talkin' na'." My entire face brightened up, and I grinned. I guess I was. "It means you got baggage you ain't tryin' sort through."

As dumb as it was, my immediate thought was: _That was actually a nice metaphor…but baggage_? "Baggage?" I reiterated. "What kind of baggage?" He shrugged coolly.

"Don't kno'. Yo baggage. It's whatever you ain't tryin' deal wit'."

Abruptly, I felt my eyes broaden. "Something…I'm not trying to deal with?" His gaze answered my question, and rapidly, meticulously, his eyes skimmed over me, as though studying me before he turned away again. I heaved a troubled sigh. "I know," and I turned my head forward, my eyes downcast at nothing.

_Something…I'm not trying to deal with._ I groaned my nostalgia. I placed my hands on my thighs and squeezed them gently.

_It's exactly what we were talking about earlier,_ my conscience returned. _I would not have known that it was so obvious that even Paul figured it out by only asking us our name_. _Regardless though, it only supports where I stand: you have to sit down and deal with this issue. We've—_

_I don't want to. Not yet,_ I rebutted.

My conscience growled. _We've stumbled and fallen over this far too many times as is, Seth. We've cried more times than any other person could bear, and that was all within the week of the incident. And even now we're—_you're_ stumbling and crying over it. I don't want to anymore. We have to deal with this._

My grip tightened, and I rubbed back and forth in an attempt to alleviate the many unwanted oncoming memories. _I don't…I don't want to. I can't…no, I won't. What if I—_

"It's better ta' deal wit' it when you can handle it." I was startled by Paul's voice. "Rushin'… tha' don't work. Take yo time." I faced him. "Do it when you ready…ain't nobody rushin' you…" He delayed. "…nobody but yoself," his voice darkened.

I nodded, but he didn't see it. "R-right." I said instead, and looked away. Though his words were reassuring, it didn't completely stave away the anxiety that had already swelled inside of me.

Silence again. It was almost becoming an entirely new essence with how often it found itself between us. Then I heard Paul grunt, and reflexively I followed the sound. He was standing now.

"Let's go." He said when our eyes met. I stood as well, but I did not follow him.

"Paul." I called him again.

He grunted. I continued anyway.

"You know…what it means to be yourself…right?"

He grunted again.

"And you said I could ask you anything…right?" He didn't give an answer. "Then what…what was your baggage?"

Silence. Its sweet essence engulfed us once more.

"…let's go…"

…

… …

… … …

I followed him then, and we left.

**X:~/~:X**

**_-November 23rd _**

**_12:30 am_**

We pulled up to the front of my house, and he cut the engine.

I looked at him expectantly, bewildered. Why did he cut the engine? Was he not leaving? Did he want to come in?

His eyes, fear-provoking and solemn, met my gaze directly. "Look," he started, and I instantly felt chills bubbling over my skin. "Jus' 'cuz I did this fa' you don't mean shit gone change." Something hit the inside of my chest, and my eyes shifted, "so if you was hopin' we was gone be friends 'cuz of this—"

"I thought…we already were." I said softly. I did. I truly did. I didn't know we weren't. It kind of hurt a little bit. _Maybe I put too much into this…whatever this is—was. This friendship…or lack thereof. _

He snarled. "Wha' the fuck made'chu think tha'?"

_I guess I don't have anyone anymore. I guess I have to face it all on my own. But I can't…I know I can't, because I don't know how. I thought…I thought… _"A lot." I answered honestly. "Since…we're the same."

He snarled again. "…ya don't want ta' be like me…an' ya don't want ta' be my friend…I only fuck shit up, fa' everybody…"

I looked at him, but he was no longer focused on me as he had so attentively before, but I found his face reflecting from the windshield. His eyes had softened, and his solemn fiery was replaced with wistfulness. I read his expression clearly…

He was trying to protect me. I turned my face away from him.

"You asked me before...who my sister and I were arguing about," I paused, and I closed my eyes, "it was you, Paul."

"I said you ain't have ta' tell me…I already knew tha'."

"What?" I asked, surprised. His countenance revealed nothing I could discern. "How did you know?"

"I jus' told you…all I do is fuck shit up. It couldn've been about nobody else."

I looked down at the stick shift between us. "If…if all you do is mess things up, and if everything in my life is already tore to hell anyways, why can't…why can't we be friends then? At the very least…why can't we—"

"'Cuz I don't fuckin' wanna yo friend!" He yelled. I felt my hands shaking. _I don't have anyone else. I don't have anyone. So why can't we just be friends_? I wanted to say, but didn't. "Na' git the fuck out of my car an' go home!" Tears, they were swelling on the brims of my eyes, I could feel them sitting there, ready to fall at any moment.

_I don't…want to be alone. I don't ever want to be alone…not again, not ever again._ I grabbed and squeezed my thighs forcefully, but I could not rub them. They were shaking too much and my grip was too tight. I couldn't—_I can't be alone again_…_I can't…_I squeezed harder.

"Wha…What's the difference," I said through clenched teeth. "What's the difference between _them!_ and me?" Anger, weeks, months' worth of anger sweltered behind my chest until it could not be contained any longer. "_What the fuck is the difference Paul_?!" I was shouting as though he weren't only inches away from me, but I didn't care. I shouted anyways, and glared irately into his yellow eyes with tears streaking my face, but I didn't care about that either. "How can you be friends with _them!_, and not me?! What makes them better than me?!...Are you like _them!_? Are you homophobic? Do you hate me to?! What did I do to any of you to make you hate me so much?! I haven't done anything. Why can't—"

In a split second, he had fisted the collar of my shirt in one of his hands and we were face to face; him glaring at him and me glaring at him. "Would you shut the hell up!?" He growled malice, his teeth bared, feral snarls eliciting from his orifice. "Ya wanna know the _fuckin'_ difference!? Ya wanna know why I can be friends with _them!_ and not you!? Wha' makes _you_ better than _them_!?"

I slapped his hand away. "It's because we're the fucking same! I know!"

Again, but with both hands he fisted my shirt and jerked me towards him, and he screamed. "_It's because I don't give two shits about them!_" Everything in my body stopped; my heartbeat, my mind, my anger, my tears, everything and I looked on with wide eyes up at him.

Apparently he was shocked by his own words, because his eyes were just as wide as mine as he looked on and stared down at me. I searched his eyes, and it was there; sincerity that he did indeed care.

He released me and I fell back into the seat. He looked away, but I could still see his face in the reflection of the window. "…like I said," he began hoarsely, "jus' 'cuz we did this don't mean nothin' gone change…I'm still gone be me, and you gone be whoever the hell ya wanna be." Then he got out. My eyes followed him around the car and to my side where he opened the door for me. "Na' git out, an' go home."

Uncertainly, I got out. I looked up at him still very much in shock, but he still could not meet my gaze. After a short while, I couldn't fight the grin that crept up. His eyes darted to me, and he looked taken aback, if his glare was any indication.

"Wha-what are you smilin' about?" He growled. "I said ain't shit changin'."

I nodded. "I heard you." I walked passed him, grinning all the while. "Thank you, Paul."

He grunted.

By the time I reached my doorstep his engine had livened, and he had already driven off. I looked after him in the darkness.

_Nothing was going to change, he had said._ I scoffed at the notion.

I didn't believe it. Something had to, I was just curious as to what it would be.

I hummed pensively to myself before I opened the front door and stepped inside, my lips still curved in a smile.

* * *

**And thus it begins...XD**

**This took a bit more thought than I assumed it would, but it worked out.**

**So, tell me what you all think! :)**

**Until next time,**

**Au revoir pour l'instant mes amours! Jusqu'à la prochaine fois! = Goodbye for now my loves. Until next time!**


	26. Irresistible

**Irresistible**

**Why did you change?**

_**-Saturday, December 18**__**th**_

_**5:30pm**_

A few weeks passed and Embry still would not talk to me. We began to drift apart. Besides us sharing the few classes that we did, we did not speak. For a while it was really strange, but eventually, and sadly, it began to feel normal not speaking to him. Did I like it? No, not at all. Could I change it? Possibly. Would I try? Eventually, but just not now. He still didn't seem approachable. I would give him more time instead, even though time seems to be the enemy.

During those past weeks, Leah did not return home. She stayed with Jacob. I had to take the bus back and forth to school. It was okay I guess. I missed her though. We spoke every now and again over the phone or at our lockers since they were so close to one another, but we never spoke about what had happened. I wasn't going to bring it up if she wouldn't. Did I like things this way? No, not really. Could I change it? Probably not. Would I try? I would, just not now. I wasn't sure if Leah needed time, or just space away from whatever it was she was so pissed about. She only had my best interest at heart, I know, but I let her be and did not try pressing things and she did the same.

Everything that made my life miserable seemed not to have changed at all. Well, actually, not everything that made me miserable remained the same. Things between Paul and I did change. Was it for the better? I still didn't know the answer to that question, but things were changing, that was a given.

It was kind of funny to think about, because only a few weeks ago, with hardened eyes practically staring into my soul, I remembered Paul saying that nothing would change between us, that he would stay himself, and I would be me—nothing more, nothing less. Those were his words. However, that was not our reality.

Though Paul and I did, for the most part, remain the same people; him with his usual scowl and short temper, and me with my pacifism and passiveness, things changed dramatically between us. I didn't skip classes with him anymore. He still did, but that was beyond me.

The reality was that Paul and I, outside of our one class together, saw each other nearly three, sometimes four times a week. We would go eat; not at _The Spot_, but to other places. I went back to his place a couple of times when he, again, started falling behind with his work. My help was unnecessary. He was fully capable.

But most times when we met up, we would go to the top of the hill, usually at night, and sit. I would do most of the talking while he just grunted and groaned his way through most of the conversations. I tried asking him to talk, but it didn't work. I gave up after a while. Nevertheless, because we have become closer I can honestly say that it made the other things with Leah and Embry a little more bearable. He had become a sort of medicine for my poisonous despair.

It was no longer a matter of being uncomfortable around Paul, because I wasn't. It was now a matter of trust. Could I trust him? Did he trust me? I didn't know if he did, and I wasn't one hundred percent sure if I could trust him, but I told him about Collin and told him that was my baggage, and surprisingly, he listened. He wasn't homophobic after all, which was a crazy thought to begin with since he stayed around me even knowing I was gay. He just said "shit happens," and that now I needed to deal with it and get myself back together. He didn't exactly say it like that. He slung a few curse words around and mixed it up in his own way of speaking, but that was the gist of it anyways.

The hill was where we began to truly understand one another. It was actually where I realized that I wasn't "in love" with Paul. I was just attracted to him for reasons I didn't entirely understand. Paul didn't necessarily open up to me though with all his worries and problems and tell me his life story, but he did open up in his own way by not always having his guard up, and because of that I realized that his permanent scowl wasn't so permanent after all. He actually smiled a few times; very small smiles, and extremely rare to catch, but it was unmistakable when he did it. I teased him about it every time I saw it, where he would then get upset, tell me to shut the hell up in a cool, nonchalant way, and then he'd change the subject.

But, here we were again, at the top of the hill on this Saturday evening, the sun setting behind grey clouds. Winter had finally caught up to Seattle, surrounding us in its bitterly chilled air. It had snowed about an inch and a half yesterday night. However, though it was cold and there was snow on the ground, Paul and I still went to the hill and sat under the now naked tree. I didn't sit far away from him anymore. We were nearly side by side, the base of the tree big enough for both of us to lean against.

I heard the echo of my laugh against the skies as I watched Paul fuming after I had again caught him smiling at something I had said. "You're smiling again," I laughed. "You should smile more often. It makes you look a lot more approachable."

He was seething. "Shut da' hell up." I just laughed louder, and I heard him snarl under his breath. "…when you gone be ready ta' leave?" He abruptly changed the subject and I stopped laughing. I shrugged.

"I don't know. Why? Do you want to leave now?" I stared at him and how his brows relaxed.

"I don't care. I was jus' askin'."

I grinned. "You just wanted to change the subject again, didn't you?" His brows strained again. I laughed harder at his reaction. It was so fun to tease him.

"Sh-shut da' fuck up! Ain't nobody tryin' change the subject. I was jus' askin'."

"Yeah, whatever you say." I cackled. "You can admit it. You just wanted to change the subject." I felt my stomach cramping from all the laughter when I saw his jaw clench and the veins in his right temple protruding.

"…You startin' ta piss me off!" He growled.

"Okay, okay calm down. I was kidding." I turned away from him. Chill bumps began to bubble over my arms—I guess a short sleeve shirt wasn't the best choice—and I massaged them for frictional warmth. "Such a temper…I don't have anything else to do today, so I don't mind staying a little while longer. But if you're trying to get rid of me, then—"

"I'm not. I was jus' askin'."

"Okay. Then we should stay for a little while longer." He grunted and I grumbled. "That's not a word." He grunted again. I just shook my head. "So defiant."

He scoffed. "Whatever." I grinned and rubbed my arms again. "You cold?" He asked abrupt. I turned to him and grinned again before giving a slightly stiff nod. Without another word he unzipped his own jacket and held it open. I was, at first, confused by the gesture not quite understanding who the hell would do something like that in the dead of winter. "Com'ere." He said, in a rather harsher-than-necessary tone. But then the light in my head came on all of a sudden.

"You cold ain't'chu?" He asked. That was indisputable. "Com'ere 'den." I just looked, contemplatively. He wanted me to move closer to him. He wanted to share his jacket with me. The last time Paul voluntarily allowed me to touch him was when Jacob had dislocated his shoulder, and that time, when I touch his skin, it felt…rough, warm...inviting. It allured me to want to touch more. "Hurry up befo' I git cold!" He growled.

Though reluctant, I moved to fit myself into his jacket and on his chest. But, what was even more distracting which made my entire body heat up and fluster, was that not only was I pressed firmly into his chest, but because of how much taller he was I was able to fit between his legs, which is exactly where he pulled me. It was awkward.

As awkward as it may have been for me, it didn't seem to bother him one bit. He closed his jacket around us. His arms tighten around me.

"You warmin' up already?" His voice portrayed his skepticism. My body was on fire, so I knew my face flushed red. Coherent speech was near impossible, but I managed to nod my head, tautly. "Wha's wrong witchu?" He asked. "Why you sittin' like tha'?"

"L-l-like what?"

"…stiff. Relax." _How the hell can I when I'm basically sitting on your freaking dick?!_ I screamed to myself, but to him I again nodded tensely. After a while I was able to settle myself enough so that I could finally relax and completely lie back with my back pressed securely into his front, and with my head comfortably resting between the crevice of his two pecs.

We sat this way for the moment. We said and did nothing except watch the white of our breaths billow from our mouths. I noted the times when his arms tightened and loosened around me. I said nothing of it though.

I wanted to talk, but I didn't know what to say, so instead I entertained myself by looking up at his misty breath, trying to see what I could make it out to be when he exhaled; sort of like watching clouds from a hillside that were closer than usual. At one point I thought I could make out the shape of a hat, and another time the shape billowed to what I perceived was a capital "E."

It was a silly game, but it preoccupied me until it was no longer entertaining after about ten minutes. Plus, most of the times, I couldn't see anything at all that I recognized. _Familiar shapes from his breath are hard to see._ I thought. I decided to simmer with my thoughts, but almost immediately, the opportunity to do so, escaped me. My analytic habit was stimulated by the reasoning of my earlier thought.

"…Hey," I started tentative. My eyes were on him, and he turned his head down to me. I fidgeted under his gaze and looked away. I heard him scoff.

"Na' wha's wrong witchu?" He had really come to know how to read my body's language. I shook my head though.

"N-nothing…I was just thinking of something, that's all…" My eyes downcast, I nervously fingered the nylon fabric of my jacket sleeve. I didn't say anything after that though. He sighed.

"…You want me ta' ask you what it is?" I continued to play with my sleeve, my eyes still lowered. He sighed again. "…'bout what?"

"…You…" I confessed.

He snarled. "What the hell you actin' like dat for?!" Without looking at his face, he was scowling. I knew he was. His expression could not have been skewed into anything else but a glare. "Stop actin' like you scared ta talk, an' say whatchu wanna say."

I stopped fiddling with the fabric. "…It's just…we," I paused, and before I decided to speak again, I looked to his stern expression. "…just…how long have we been doing…_this_?" His eyes narrowed, I noticed.

"This…? What'chu talkin' about?"

"I mean us…here…together…" He raised a brow. I heaved a demurred breath., and recollected myself. I turned away from him again. "How long have we been coming here together…just to talk? How many times have we come here?"

"Twelve," he answered without hesitation. I was taken aback as I stared into his unimpressed eyes. "Wha'?"

I shook my head hesitantly. "N-nothing…but, yeah twelve times, huh? We've been here together twelve times, but I still…" I sigh and again shook my head. "You know what," I smiled up at his quizzical countenance. "…thinking it over…it's really not that important. Never mind." He made a rough noise in the back of his throat, and his face pinched into a menacing leer. "Anyways…we can change the—"

"No." He growled.

"Wh-what?"

"Wha' was it?"

I smiled. "Nothing. It's not important. Don't worr—"

"Wha' was it?!" He repeated.

"Paul, it's noth—"

"Jus' say whachu want ta say."

I only stared at him for a while, but it certainly did not take long for me to figure out that he was pissed off; though his voice did not exactly portray it I could tell. I felt weird—in my stomach. Butterflies perhaps? That made the most sense because I was quite nervous. "You really want to know?" He didn't answer, but at this point I was aware of the things he would and would not answer.

"Okay then, I'll tell you." Again he said nothing, and again I expected nonetheless. He just waited with his visage pinched in that irritated way. I heaved a deep breath. "To be completely honest, I feel that, though we come here a lot, I still don't know anything about you…not in the way that you know things about me anyways."

"Like wha'?"

"I don't really know…I mean, you know a lot about me; about where I come from and my family. I even told you about him, and I only tell people who I can trust about him." I paused. "…you know all of this about me, and I hardly know anything about you. I guess I'm starting to think that you know a little too much about me."

His reply was simple. "You neva asked."

It was simple, but it was true.

"…can I ask now?"

…

… …

… … …

"I'm from Missouri. I live wit' ma' aunt; ma' ol' man gone an' the woman somewhere, an' I aint neva had no body like him." He answered dispassionately. "That it?" I heaved in a deep breath and blew it out my nose as I silently watched him look at nothing out over the horizon of the setting sun. I assumed that six o'clock was quickly approaching, calling in the night with it.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"I don't care. Ask if ya want ta know." I nodded against his sternum.

"I've thought of asking you for a while but—well I did before, but—" I could hear my heart beating. Or maybe that was his heart. Maybe it was both of our hearts. Eh, I don't know. I couldn't tell. "You said you had 'baggage'," and suddenly I could clearly distinguish the difference between our beating hearts as though his had stopped altogether. "What's your baggage?"

He didn't answer me, not right away. It wasn't until I heard the heavy thud of his heart in my ear did he begin to speak. He snorted. "Why you wanna know tha'?"

"I mean…I told you about…Collin, so—"

"So you think I owe you somethin' na? 'Cause you told me tha', I'm supposed ta tell you somethin'?" He scoffed.

"No. I just—"

"I ain't ask you ta tell me shit about him!"

"I know, but still—"

"You tol' me about him 'cause you wanted to—" I shot upright putting distance between us. I turned to him, face to face. My brows furrowed, and his face fixed in a scowl.

"Why are you being so defensive? You said I could ask, so I did."

"You think I owe you somethin'. I ain't—"

"You don't owe me anything" He opened his mouth to say something more, but I beat him to it. "I didn't have to tell you about him, but I did. And just the same, you didn't have to listen, but you did." I heard a snarl slip from behind his clenched teeth. "Like I said, I don't just tell anyone anything they want to know, only people who I feel that I can trust and that's why I told you?"

His glare intensified. "An' wha' makes you think I trust you?" Is it weird that hurt me a little more than it probably should have? I knew that he probably didn't. Still, hearing him say it the way he had, with so much disgust in his voice kind of made me mad; it made my stomach ache, and without a doubt I knew that my face had pinched itself into a menacing scowl. "Jus' 'cause we come here don't mean shit."

I stared straight into his eyes. I restrained myself from lashing out when I spoke. "I don't know if you do, or if you don't," I answered hoarsely. "I knew that there was a possibility that you didn't, but regardless…regardless, I trust you." Though I was scowling I couldn't help but feel a strange way inside. I was mad and afraid. What was there to be afraid of?

His eyes narrowed into sharp slits, and his hands balled into tightly clasped fists, his veins prominently protruding over his skin. His resolve faltered under my gaze and he looked elsewhere "…Why?" His voice sounded strained. "Tha's stupid…Tha' makes you stupid!" I shook my head.

"No it doesn't."

His fierce amber orbs glared into mine once again. "Why da' hell would you trust somebody who don't trust you? Tha's stupid! Are you tha' damn stupid?!"

"It's not!"

"It is!"

"Why? Why is it stupid to trust you?"

"'Cause _all I do is fuck shit up_! When you gone git tha' through yo head?! Why would you want ta trust me when all I do is fuck shit up!"

"When are you going to get it through your head that I don't care?" He stopped, perceivably taken aback as his eyes grew slightly wider. "I don't care about that." My eyes fell to the ground between us. "…about what you did in the past…" my voice softened to a whisper, "I just want…I just don't care about any of that, okay?"

…

He sighed, his strained expression slackening into subtle indifference. "Only ah idiot wouldn't care. An' I kno' you ain't dumb fa real." He said. "So, what's gon' happen when you start ta care 'bout it? You ain't gon' wanna trust me 'den."

"Yes I will."

"Naw. Ya won't."

"What did you do that is so bad?"

He shook his head. "Nothin'."

"Then…then I don't get it. Why shouldn't I trust you if you haven't done anything wrong?"

He didn't answer. "You shakin'," He stated abrupt, and he opened his jacket for me. My eyes traced his movements. "Com'ere," he said.

"I still don't get what you—"

"Shaddup and com'ere." He growled.

I didn't move. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into him. His arms were tighter than before. It almost felt as though he were hugging me and not trying to warm me up.

"Paul?"

"Stop talkin'." He said. "Jus' be quiet fa ah minute." I did. Ten minutes passed and I felt his arms loosen from around me. Night had come but we didn't speak. Our breathing was the only sign that the other was still alive and had not frozen.

"I was born in Missouri," Paul started suddenly. I fixed my ears attentively. "I'm ah' only child, but we—that woman an' my ol' man—ain't have a lot. It was jus' me, the ol' man, and the woman, so we ain't need much anyway...but I guess things woulda been different if we had more."

"My ol' man…he left when I was little. I don't blame'em fa' leavin'…it wa'n't nothin' else he could do fa' her. All they did was fight everyday…He couldn't keep a job, an' sometimes we went without fa' awhile…no food, lights, heat shit lik' tha' fa' weeks, but I ain't care. It was what it was." I could tell by the tightness of his words that he did in fact care, but I understood what he meant. There was nothing he could do but endure it. I could understand that endurance all too well_._

"I ain't care, but I guess she did. It shouldn't 'ah been a surprise though. She use ta' have everything before she met him. Her folks ain't eva worry 'bout money, they ain't never needed to. But his family ain't live lik' hers, so…." His teeth clenched. "They looked at him lik' they were so much better…lik' he had ta' be fuckin' God jus' ta' be wit' her," he scoffed. "but they ran away ta'getha anyways."

I could feel the boiling indignation building behind his heaving chest. "But she couldn't take it no more. She couldn't live wit' havin' nothing; not when she was use ta' havin' everything. She gave up on him, but her folks ain't let her go back…said she was a disgrace fa' runnin' wit' trash…fa' havin' me."

"So…so," he squeezed tighter, his nails digging into my side. I winced but otherwise endured it. "…so she left, leavin' me wit' him, wit' nothin'. I ain't see her fa' months; I barely ate. Whateva he could do ta' make money tha ol' man did it, an' used all of it fa' me…But wen she came back she had money, money from hustlin' rich old men and sleepin' wit'em. He tried makin' her quit, an' they got into more an' more fights afta tha', 'til eventually he gave up an' told her ta' keep me an' take care of me since she was doin' so good."

"She did," he continued. "Fa' 'bout a week she took care of me, but den gave me ta' my aunt here in Seattle, saying she couldn't work an' have me around. Basically, me bein' born ruined her life an' she wanted ta' get rid of me. That's how I read it anyways."

"No, I'm sure that's not it." I interjected feeling as though I needed to reassure him.

"You ain't gotta try ta' make me feel better 'bout it. It is wha' it is. I don't kno' why my aunt took me if she ain't lik' her, but it ain't lik' I eva saw either one of them. Afta I moved in I was by myself an' got into fights all the time fa' walkin' by myself in places I shouldn've been. When ya get beat up enough ya start ta' learn how ta' fight an' ya skin get tougher so shit don't hurt as much. I lived lik' tha' 'til I was 15. I guess people started gettin' scared of me an' stopped fuckin' wit me." He shrugged. "Whateva."

"I was scared too." I confessed.

"I kno'."

"Paul," I said hesitantly as I picked at my fingernails. "I don't know if it will make a difference, but…I'm-I'm happy that…you know, I'm happy that you're here."

The silence between us was brutal. I just knew that his eyes were staring down on me. Then he squeezed me. "Yeah…me too," he answered, the tone of his voice softer than I had ever heard before.

It has been nearly a month that I've kept my feelings from him. I have told him everything else as far as my past, but I haven't told him how I felt. I don't know if now is the perfect time, but as the wise saying goes, no time is the perfect time. I have to just make it happen. _I have to do this_. If I wait too much longer it will later become more baggage for me to carry.

Having made up my mind, I pushed away from him and turned to face him. "Paul, I have to tell you something." I said, and zipped his open coat close.

"Wha'?"

I looked into his eyes and much to my surprise what I saw something completely different from what I saw before. His brown eyes fixed to their usual scowl, darkened under his brows and piercing. They looked the same, but somehow they were different. Though his eyes were dark and piercing, they didn't seem so full of anger anymore. Instead they looked more fearful.

"What is it?" He asked.

I tore my eyes from him. "I don't know how to really say it. I mean, I want to tell you, but I don't know how."

"Jus' say it."

"Okay." I sighed. "I'll just say it. Paul…I like you. I mean, not like a friend, but…a lot more than I probably should. I mean, I know that you might not, you know, feel that way about me, but…I don't know. I just wanted to tell you, and hear what you had to say about it." I waited for him to respond, but he didn't. The suspense was killing me. "Did you hear me?" I asked, my eyes still avoiding him.

"Yeah. I heard you."

"So?" I asked

"How long you been feelin' lik' tha'?"

"Since the first week I met you." I answered. Then I heard the crunching of snow. I turned toward him with all the intentions not to look into his eyes, but as I turned, he was on hands and knees, right there in front of me, staring into my eyes. "Pa-Paul? Why are you—"

"Shuddap." I did. I caught his gaze. He hesitated. I waited, my heart thumping.

I looked away and over the hill. "Paul, don't do anything you might regret later." I heard more crunching and felt Paul's cold hand on my cheek turning my head to face him; his brown eyes beating. I knew his heart was racing.

"Shuddap," he said again, and I felt his hot lips suddenly pressed to mine.

Words to describe this sensation. Something that can convey the feeling of Paul's lips, which can sum up the feeling of gluttony overcoming me? I can only think of one. Irresistible. His lips, his heat, they were irresistible.

** X:~/~:X **

"How far have you gotten?" Paul asked from over my shoulder. I swiveled in my chair to face him. I hadn't even noticed the door open behind me.

"I just finished our first kiss." I answered.

"When you jumped all over me and begged me to take you." He smirked as I gave him a skeptical look.

"Is that how you remember it?"

"Yeah, because that's what happened."

"Whatever. Your word against mine." I dismissed. "What's that?" I asked nodding towards the plate in his hands. He handed it to me.

"You haven't eaten all day."

"Is this what you have been doing down there this whole time?"

"That shit was hard to make, alright. I had to re-cook all that shit three times before getting it right. I fucking hate cooking." I picked up the fork on my plate and stabbed the sustenance. "But that's not all I've been doing though." I ate it, and immediately my palate was coated by a pound of salt, but I forced myself to swallow it.

"And you still didn't get it right." I mumbled.

"You say something?"

I shook my head. "Nothing," I answered and placed the plate down on the desk.

His eyes scanned over the screen of my laptop. "You know, with how long you're taking with this, it's going to take you forever to finish it."

"Yeah I was thinking the same thing, but I have to set everything up first. I can't just jump right into it."

"How long is it so far?"

"About twenty-six chapters I think," I said.

He laughed. "You don't think that's enough. I want to read it when it's done, so leave out all the bullshit and hurry up and skip to the interesting parts."

"You asked me to write a story, but that's not how a story works at all. You can't just have climax after climax without any build up." He didn't answer after that. He grinned at me. "What?"

"Maybe not in a story, but I know somebody who can." His grinned was mischievous, and my body heated up and my face flushed red.

"S-shut up!"

"We can make it happen again tonight if you want."

"J-just get out you perv!"

He threw his hands up. "Fine, fine, fine. I'm going to go clean up downstairs." He said as he walked towards the door. "By the way, it's almost 10 o'clock. You should stop writing and get some sleep." He said. "Oh, and my offer stands until 11. All you have to do is ask."

"Get out!" I growled. He closed the door behind him, laughing. "Freaking perv." I glowered.

I reread the last few lines I wrote. Then I yawned. _It is getting late. Maybe I should turn in_. I decided and closed my laptop. "I'll start fresh in the morning." I turned and looked out the window. "Maybe I'll try writing outside tomorrow. It is a little stifling in here." I shrugged at the thought and went to get ready for bed.

_Maybe I'll take Paul up on his offer_. I scoffed. _Not that I would have a say in the matter anyways_. I scoffed. "Pervert."

* * *

**Life happened. That's all I can say. Life happened. **

**Buut I hope you guys enjoyed it anyways. I won't leave this undone. I promised I wouldn't.**

**Let me know what your thoughts though. **


End file.
